ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Carrier Pigeon
| Vignette - Carrier Pigeon | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
|
2015-11-15 Gifts. |
| Location | |
Tap tap tap. Tuesday morning it's rather early -- not even yet dawn -- when there's a tap and a rattle at Steve's bedroom window. Then a fluttering, a flapping. There's nobody actually /there/, though, a moment later. Just a shiny swirly purple-green-blue star-shaped piece of stained glass attached to a thin piece of silver wire -- it looks like a Christmas tree ornament, or perhaps a suncatcher, left hanging at the window. Then again, some time after dark on Tuesday. Tap tap! Rattle-tap. A flutter of dark wings, quickly there and then gone. This time the windowsill bears a trio of small brightly colored marbles, swirled in different hues. Wednesday morning the tapping comes a little later. A very large birdshape silhouetted briefly outside. Tap! Tap TAP. This time, one single lotus-seed bead, pale and speckled. Thursday, a COLLECTION of eyes, some googly, some glass, some plastic, some just black dots in white background, some amazingly detailed and lifelike, all scavenged from various dolls, gathered into a neat tidy heap on the windowsill. These taps are staccato and proud. One wing (dark and grey but speckled in smokey black and highlighted with pearly shading) mantles protectively over the pile before flying away. That evening, one, single, carved chopstick, inlaid with mother of pearl in a turtle design. Friday there is no delivery until noon. A rather frenetic tapping, rattle rattle tap. Tap tap! Tap! Tap!!! This time for all the hubbub there is -- one single sliver of white. Bone, perhaps? Thin and small and poky sharp. Saturday, a feather, long and black, tied around with a twist of purple ribbon. In the evening, following the rattletap at the window: a small slim and very (very!) colorful smartphone. Dead, no batteries, though it seems in good condition. Sunday morning the delivery must have come very early; a turquoise string of rosary beads is rattling in the wind against the windowpane long before dawn. On a tree across from the Commonhaus, nestled away among the branches, a large bird is perched, head tucked down beneath a wing where he's accidentally started to doze off. Waiting. Hopefully. For how his gifts will be received. | |
