While the din of Clarice’s zippy moped meeting the brick wall of the house where the starling lay dead at the bottom of the white birdcage reverberated, her tears flowed in parallel lines like the unlucky bird’s blood trickled from its eyes.
She imagines Innocent Woman Crashes into Neighbor’s Wall as a headline, though Reckless Woman Kills Innocent Unsuspecting Bird would be closer to the guilt she would feel had she known about the avian death. When a woman about the same age as Clarice with long kinky hair waving in the wind of her speed ran out of the house screaming, “Are you okay? Are you okay?” Clarice only stared blearily through her tears.
Before one woman can offer aid and the other accept it, a panel van screeched to a stop at the curb. The side door slid open as if by remote control and two men in coveralls and balaklavas hopped out. They looked from one woman to the other, shrugged, bundled both into the van, and speed away under the surprised eyes of neighbors wandering out of their homes to see what all the fuss was about.