The Two Finches

The two yellowy finches were there, right outside our big window. They grasped onto the tiptop of a flowering mint branch and pecked in and out of the blossoms. They were deliberate in their pecking. They were happy, so I was happy. I was carried away in this magic when from downstairs a certain little girl started screaming, "I HATE YOU!" And also, "STUPID!" And then her brother came up, telling me all the wrong things she had done in the last 2 minutes. I glanced at my finches, willed them to stay a few, and went downstairs to rescue the brothers from their little sister. I came back upstairs and the birds were gone. I went back to making dinner.