circular staircase

Merryford was a nice town. It was very nice town with an excellent school district, a weekly farmers’ market, and nothing bad ever happened here. At least that was true until the birds.

Joanie was jogging with Mitzi when she found the first cardinal. Scarlet and perfectly still, the bird laid on the walking path. Joanie bent to examine it. She wasn’t into birds but his feathers were so bright almost unreal. When Joanie went to continue her walk, her terrier ran towards her with another bird in her mouth. This dead bird was smaller and chestnut brown.

Probably the first bird’s mate, Joanie thought as she wrestled Mitzi’s prize from her dog’s muzzle. Joanie tried to jog pulling a protesting Mitzi. The dog rooted in the brush. Thunk! Rubbing her head, Joanie looked up to the sky. Feathers fell from her head, scarlet. Another bird was dead at her feet. Joanie ran back to her townhouse dragging her yapping dog as birds rained down.

Instantly the world fell apart. The news encouraged people to retreat to their homes to hunker down. The churches and social media overflowed. There was a weird conspiracy that claimed birds never existed in the first place and the Illumati were at work behind the scenes. Most people like Joanie went on as if the world was on pause and would reboot soon.

Across North America the birds continued to die. Poultry farms became wastelands. Stressed out, Joanie gave up watching the news all together. Europe, Africa, Asia, and South America closed their borders to North America as a precaution. In or out, Australia banned all travel.

Piccadilly Square awoke to a carpet of dead sparrows. Scientists conjectured on the possibility of a new avian flu. Over Skype Joanie’s aunt Susie told her aliens were preparing the earth for the final cleanse. Joanie decided not to travel over the holidays.

The skies were empty over Johannesburg. Food riots sparked around the equator while the WHO promised an avian treatment by fall, spring at the latest. Joanie planned to go North to be with her sister’s family.

There were reports of songbirds in Melbourne but who knew what to believe anymore. Joanie watched the old walking path from between the boards covering her window. It looked quiet but you never could be sure. Her backpack was loaded and there was nothing to keep her here. Joanie hoped Vancouver would be a nice town.