The bird that gently moved

By Lowri Larsen

 

I stopped thinking. I think that’s why alcohol is such a good solution to so many problems. It takes your mind away. I just kept on swigging my drink and dangling my legs over the edge. I didn’t even notice that there was a man sat next to me until I heard a voice. “Hi how are you?” I looked and next to me was a guy with black skin and a suit and a top hat. I didn’t know what to make of him so I looked down and he had these pointy things at the end of his shoes. I answered “good how are you? Do you want a can?” He answered that he did and so we sat in silence for a while drinking beer. Words just seemed unnecessary.

I was looking at the sea after feeding the bird. I was sort of wondering what I was doing with my life. I suppose in a way I was wishing for something better. I didn’t really know what I wanted. The waves bought with them no inspiration. I opened a can of beer. It bought a slight dizzy but happy feeling. Why not, Sit at the Spanish Arch and get a little merry on a spring morning.I was sat on the Spanish arch looking into the sea. I was half feeding a bird the rest of my baguette. I was looking at the way it moved its beak, to eat the crumbs. I was studying the outline of his legs. I was fascinated by the colours of its feather. It was only me there to see that bird and, I guess this story is just like that.

I don’t know how it happened but it happened. A few more cans were drunk. More birds flew. Waves of the sea came and went. We ended holding hands. I looked and thought that my white hand against his black hand looked beautiful. Our fingers made an interesting looking pattern against weaved together. The rest is history, we got together.

He was only in town a weekend. He left me a note with his email address. I put it in my pocket but I never did find it when I searched for it. It must have blown away with the wind. I knew things weren’t right as soon as my period was two days late. I can’t explain it I just knew. I felt different. I did a test and a blue line came up on the test. I was pregnant. I don’t know why but I just felt like having a cup of tea.
I had my cup of tea and thought about what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to do anything. For some reason the thought of doing it alone did not scare me. . I didn’t feel like having a termination. Looking at the moon gave me a feeling I can’t begin to explain, as if there was a turning in my time. Of course, there were plenty of tears when the shock set in. So there were no more cans on the Spanish Arch.

No one ever talks about the birth and what it feels like. That’s because it hurts like hell. A doctor told me you don’t remember pain once it’s gone. It’s gone. There was a LOT of pain. There were a few nights in hospital. White bed sheets, white walls, white everything. Then that was that. I was walking down through the corridors with a pram with a baby in it.

They say that having a baby is hard work but you have no idea how much hard work it is until you have one. It’s none stop. My life does not even feel like my own any more. And yes sometimes the loneliness almost kills me.

As she lies in her cot looking through the window, at the stars, I can’t believe how idyllic she looks. Her lovely black hair and long eyelashes, against her brownish skin make her look like a mythical creature. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. My life changed the day she decided to come into the world.