Battleground. – Flash Fiction.

 

When Jane bought the house it was derelict. The garden a tip. Ten years on and it was a house buyers dream. The garden, a fantasy of jeweled color and activity.

However, this morning it was quiet. Too quiet. She shivered. No cat on the windowsill, no birds flitting about and singing their hearts out.  As sun filled as any postcard and as quiet as one too.

“Somethings up,” she muttered. Her husband gathering his brief case looked over at her and smiled.

“Lost your keys again?”

“No, but I’ve lost all sound in the garden. Like God has turned the Stereo off.” She smiled at the absurdity of her words.

He planted a light kiss on her cheek and left for work. Jane trundled outside to check .

Then she saw him.  The fledgling Mocking-jay sat on the back of the garden seat. Time moved on but he didn’t. Seconds became one minute, then two. She tiptoed forward and followed his line of vision.

Her heart wobbled, her body swayed. There on the old grey stone wall sat a line of crows.

Run for the garden rake to get between predators and the terrified bird or? She glanced back at the mocking-jay and for the first time noticed his expression.

He wasn’t terrified he was arrogantly daring them to attack. She wondered why.  The tiny rustle behind her alerted Jane. A glance over her shoulder revealed an army of mocking-jay birds.

Jane didn’t stop to think, she ran for cover….

Flash fiction piece inspired by photo on:

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