the mise had bene. The letters showd how tiny the burd had bene. The meaninlessness showd how tiny Billy Deans brane had bene.
He movd the book & turnd it so the shaft of dust & lite fel down upon its payjes so the letters & the pitchas wer iluminayted.
Look I telt him. Thers our names rit down in ink & blud.
He lookd at me as if I was sum grate mistry to him a mistry as big as the stars or the goodness at the hart of things.
I wanted to mayk a masterpees I said. It has the beest & the burd & the human being in it & it has words & storys & as I rote it I showd payshens & dedicayshon & I had my mind on hiyer things.
Its byutiful Billy.
I made it for you Dad.
O I cudnt take it from you Billy.
You must. You must cary it with you.
A grone lyk the grone of a thing in aginy caym owt from him & corsed the dust arownd his mowth to rush swirl storm & scatter lyk a millyon shootin stars a million littl frantic burds.
I pressd the pajes onto his hands.
Plees. I said. Plees tayk it Dad.
He groned agen. He lookd at the sky at the room at my eyes at the book lyk he dint no wer he was dint no wat he was dint no nothin nothin at arl.
Then he turnd his fays from me & clutchd the book.
Forget me Billy he said.
I reechd owt to him but cud not reech him.
Murder me in yor hart he said.
I held his blak jaket but he tuggd away.
Goodby he wisperd.
Then he went threw the dor I must never go threw. He left it wyd open. I seen the depe depe darknes that lay behynd. I turnd my eyes away as his last word eckoed depe inside me.
Goodby. Goodby. Goodby.
I stood in the shaft of dust & lite. I felt the scarf that hung loosely arownd my throte. I smelt the sents of him in it. Voyses started mutterin in the walls. I went to the warl & pressd so hard & tryd to lissen. Then sylens.
Then much time.
Then Mam caym in. She shut the dore & crossd the room & put her arm arownd me.
Dads gon she said.
Soon after that things started to stink. Mam was bringin in my brekfast 1 morning & she stoppd & sniffd the air.
What on erths that smel? she said
What smel I said tho I new what she was tarkin of.
That funny smel. Its swete & yuk.
She sniffd me & she sniffd the bed. She got down on her hands & nees & started crawlin sniffin rownd the room fays close to the carpet close to the flore.
Mebbe its the mise agen she said.
Mebbe it is.
She lay down by the walls & sniffd in the mowsholes.
No wors than normal she said.
She kept on sniffin searchin findin nothin.
Ill get some disinfectant & some scrubbin stuff she said.
OK Mam. If I fynd enythin Ill let you no.
Then she went to do harestyles & I got under the bed & lifted up the secret florebord.
It was the spuggy that was making the stink of cors.
Id got rid of all the bits of the dead mise exept the little foot of the first. But I just cudnt chuck the burd away. It was so preshus. But no mater how preshus it wos it stil had the ability to rot.
I lifted it owt. Wot a bluddy pong. I workd fast. I wos hedin for the toilet but stil I cudnt do it. I got the sissors & cut the wings off. I hoyd the body into the toilet bowl & flushd it down. I had to flush agen to get all the little fethers gon. I spred the wings owt on the table and even tho the wings had bene pluckd so much and even tho the stink was porin owt of them they wer completly bluddy lovely.
All I wanted I think wos 1 last good look. I spred the wings wyd & siyed at ther loveliness. I thankd the bird for comin to me from the sky.
Then the imaj enterd my brane & I new what I must do.
I fownd 1 of the old mows traps that Mam had left in a draw. I bated it by scatering crums from my brekfast acros it. I pulld bak the spring. I lade the trap before 1 of the holes in the wall. I stood up & steppd bak & wayted. The shaft of lite shone down & evrything was very stil & very sylent.
It did not take long.
A singl mows appeard slipping owt of the hole. It was a mows like eny uther mows with greyish fur & a skinny tale & tiny fete & delicat
He movd the book & turnd it so the shaft of dust & lite fel down upon its payjes so the letters & the pitchas wer iluminayted.
Look I telt him. Thers our names rit down in ink & blud.
He lookd at me as if I was sum grate mistry to him a mistry as big as the stars or the goodness at the hart of things.
I wanted to mayk a masterpees I said. It has the beest & the burd & the human being in it & it has words & storys & as I rote it I showd payshens & dedicayshon & I had my mind on hiyer things.
Its byutiful Billy.
I made it for you Dad.
O I cudnt take it from you Billy.
You must. You must cary it with you.
A grone lyk the grone of a thing in aginy caym owt from him & corsed the dust arownd his mowth to rush swirl storm & scatter lyk a millyon shootin stars a million littl frantic burds.
I pressd the pajes onto his hands.
Plees. I said. Plees tayk it Dad.
He groned agen. He lookd at the sky at the room at my eyes at the book lyk he dint no wer he was dint no wat he was dint no nothin nothin at arl.
Then he turnd his fays from me & clutchd the book.
Forget me Billy he said.
I reechd owt to him but cud not reech him.
Murder me in yor hart he said.
I held his blak jaket but he tuggd away.
Goodby he wisperd.
Then he went threw the dor I must never go threw. He left it wyd open. I seen the depe depe darknes that lay behynd. I turnd my eyes away as his last word eckoed depe inside me.
Goodby. Goodby. Goodby.
I stood in the shaft of dust & lite. I felt the scarf that hung loosely arownd my throte. I smelt the sents of him in it. Voyses started mutterin in the walls. I went to the warl & pressd so hard & tryd to lissen. Then sylens.
Then much time.
Then Mam caym in. She shut the dore & crossd the room & put her arm arownd me.
Dads gon she said.
Soon after that things started to stink. Mam was bringin in my brekfast 1 morning & she stoppd & sniffd the air.
What on erths that smel? she said
What smel I said tho I new what she was tarkin of.
That funny smel. Its swete & yuk.
She sniffd me & she sniffd the bed. She got down on her hands & nees & started crawlin sniffin rownd the room fays close to the carpet close to the flore.
Mebbe its the mise agen she said.
Mebbe it is.
She lay down by the walls & sniffd in the mowsholes.
No wors than normal she said.
She kept on sniffin searchin findin nothin.
Ill get some disinfectant & some scrubbin stuff she said.
OK Mam. If I fynd enythin Ill let you no.
Then she went to do harestyles & I got under the bed & lifted up the secret florebord.
It was the spuggy that was making the stink of cors.
Id got rid of all the bits of the dead mise exept the little foot of the first. But I just cudnt chuck the burd away. It was so preshus. But no mater how preshus it wos it stil had the ability to rot.
I lifted it owt. Wot a bluddy pong. I workd fast. I wos hedin for the toilet but stil I cudnt do it. I got the sissors & cut the wings off. I hoyd the body into the toilet bowl & flushd it down. I had to flush agen to get all the little fethers gon. I spred the wings owt on the table and even tho the wings had bene pluckd so much and even tho the stink was porin owt of them they wer completly bluddy lovely.
All I wanted I think wos 1 last good look. I spred the wings wyd & siyed at ther loveliness. I thankd the bird for comin to me from the sky.
Then the imaj enterd my brane & I new what I must do.
I fownd 1 of the old mows traps that Mam had left in a draw. I bated it by scatering crums from my brekfast acros it. I pulld bak the spring. I lade the trap before 1 of the holes in the wall. I stood up & steppd bak & wayted. The shaft of lite shone down & evrything was very stil & very sylent.
It did not take long.
A singl mows appeard slipping owt of the hole. It was a mows like eny uther mows with greyish fur & a skinny tale & tiny fete & delicat
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