Murderess

The blinds were closed.  Outside, the crowd rustled and murmured and flapped, jostling for places on the windowsill and gutters.  Less fortunate individuals clung to the telephone wires, waiting for their chance.

They never raised their voices.  Anything above a whisper would set off the whole lot of them, cawing and croaking.  She cringed when she heard the scuffling in the chimney.  A sooty lump of a bird fell into the grate, crawled out, coughed.  It struggled to the old woman’s feet and collapsed by the couch.  Far overhead, rheumy eyes opened.

“Welcome back, Grandmother,” Shona said from the table.