#83 Freed From Greed

by Christine Ahern

A feather lands in Grace’s soup. Bright orange floats in the pea green. “Damn,” she says. “I was going to eat that.”

“Some vacation,” George says again. “We should have gone camping.”

“I wanted tropical sunshine and crystal blue seas,” she says. “Not dirt and raccoons.”

How was she supposed to know it was going to rain for days, the hotel workers would go on strike and they would be invaded by crazy birds?

A bird swoops by Grace’s ear, lifting a strand of hair with its claw. She swipes mightily at it. She watches the feather in her pea soup go from bright orange to murky green.

“And what is with these birds?” George pokes at one perched on the table’s edge.

“They’re parrots.”

“Who cares. Why are there so many of them and why are they dive bombing us?”

Grace sits back into her whicker chair. A parrot lands on her head. “Someone said . . .” She swipes. “. . . they escaped when a poacher’s truck overturned.”

Grace watches the bright swirl of parrot orange and green against the gray island sky. Captured by greed, freed by providence? This vacation is supposed to be a celebration of Grace’s freedom. She finally quit the job she hated—working in PR for an international oil company. A feather floats to the table. She picks it up and tucks it behind her ear.

“Freed from greed,” She says.

“What?”

“I’m commiserating with the birds.”

“You do that.”

Grace smiles. “I will.”