i had to run today.
a man came to my door. he looked like a policeman. wanted to ask me some questions, like what i was doing there. wanted to see my identification.
when he saw it, he told me to get down on the floor. he pulled out handcuffs. he said i was wanted for murder. and arson.
i will not deny the arson charge. but i am not guilty of murder. you can't murder something that's already given its life away. you can't murder in a war.
so i kicked him in the testicles and rushed past him, running for the door of my apartment building.
i am lucky the doors are glass. otherwise i would not have seen the blackbird-covered world lying in wait for me.
i turned quickly, and saw the policeman walking towards me. he did not have a gun, he had a knife, and he was slowly stripping off his jacket.
"you can't outrun the heavens, little crocodile." he said, tearing his shirt open and sinking the blade bloodlessly into his chest. "they'll always be watching over you."
i ran towards him now, brushing past him as the first beak began to prod its way from his flesh.
i think he believed me helpless, my only choices being to face the heavens or die in my windowless room.
he underestimated me. i came back with molotovs.
that's another arson count for me. 'tis a shame, i liked that place, too.
i don't know if i killed the birds. maybe i did, maybe i didn't. maybe they can't die. or maybe it doesn't matter how many birds you kill.
because the flock will never end.