A sparrow’s feast

The sparrows on the roof of the garage are eating the apples that have fallen there from the tree next door. A little feast of fruit, looking like it has spilled from a basket, tumbled from some baka‘s wheely trolley as she struggles up the hill, some dedo‘s donkey as he tries to get his harvest home.

But no, it is just fruit that has fallen from the tree, on to the roof of the garage, that no one but the sparrows will eat. The presence of fruit on concrete – not in fields, in faraway farms, in foreign orchards – is always surprising to me.

Later, the local half-wild cat will sit amongst the apples catching the last rays of daylight. C has christened him Keksi – meaning Cookies – because of his colouring. Actually, Keksi is a girl; we know this, because she likes to sit on her hindquarters with one rear leg extended high up in the air, like some sort of obscene fat gymnast. But we still call her him.

And tomorrow morning, the sparrows will be back to finish off their feast of apples.

Share on facebook
Facebook
Share on twitter
Twitter
Share on linkedin
LinkedIn

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Nat Newman - portrait

Nat Newman

Nat Newman is an award-winning writer of short stories, content, podcasts, feature articles, drunk text messages and, soon, a novella.

COMING SOON

The Office of Dead Letters

SEARCH OLD BLOG POSTS

latest posts

words | travel | life | beer

Do you like:

✍ words
🌴 travel
😻 life
🍺 beer?

If you said YES to any of those things, then my newsletter is for you!

Sent just once a month, you’ll get to hear about what’s going on in the world of writing, read insider tips on interesting places to visit, and hear a lot of stories about beer.