posted 24 Oct 2015, 07:17 by Louise Jensen
updated 24 Oct 2015, 07:30 by Tim Elliston
I peep through the window and my own lonely face is reflected back at me. I’m so scared Emily won’t come home, but I shake the thought away, force myself to be positive.
My stomach growls, I’m hungry despite my anxiety, and I realise I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours. I pace up and down, eyes locked on the front door.
The door handle shifts and Emily shuffles into the flat, arm in a sling. I coo loudly, tap my beak against the pane and flap my one good wing. She pushes up the sash and and I peck the breadcrumbs she sprinkles onto the ledge.