Pink Ochre Magazine

     “Wingston! Wingston!” Jay called out. His wings flapped as frantically as his head
swiveled, desperate to find his lost companion.

     This was no place for a bird like Jay: tall brutalist architecture, smog-filled air, and a
generally gray atmosphere that made his bright blue feathers visible from miles away. He prayed there were no predators around. Of course Wingston would get lost in a place like this.
     

     Finally, Jay spotted a red plume atop a particularly decrepit windowsill. Thank God he’s
not dead, Jay thought.

     “Hey, Wingston!”

     Jay swooped down and perched himself next to his comrade. Wingston barely moved, as
if he didn’t feel the wind from Jay’s wings as he landed. “I’ve been looking for you.”
     

     Wingston turned, finally recognizing Jay’s presence. “Oh, hey Jay,” he greeted. His tone
was laissez-faire, and his voice practically lethargic.

     “I’ve been looking for you,” Jay repeated, annoyed.

     “Now you’ve found me. Funny how life works like that.” Despite the sardonic content of
his comments, his perpetually relaxed inflection made him come across as overly sincere.
Jay scoffed, “Where have you been?”

     “Here.”

     “Well, I know you’ve been here, obviously, but what are you doing here?”

     “Waiting.”

     “Waiting for what?”

     “You ask a lot of questions, you know that? But that’s a good thing. That means you’re
curious, and it’s never bad to be curious.”

     Jay sighed and rubbed his forehead, creating a small blue tuft above his eyes. “Look, just
tell me what you’re doing! We’re far away from the nest and I don’t want to be out here much
longer.”

     Wingston paused, as if deep in thought, then pointed his wing upward. “You see that
window up there?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Everyday around this time, right when the sun crests over the side of that building with
the green flag, a giant hand will open that window and put a ton of tasty seeds on the
windowsill.”

     “Wait, seriously?”

     “Yeah, and they taste oh so good. You should wait here with me so you can try some.”
Jay stared at the windowsill above. “Well, why are we down here? Shouldn’t we go up to
the windowsill the seeds will be on?”

     Wingston chuckled at the proposition like it was the craziest idea he ever heard. “No, no,

no, we can’t do that?”

     “Why not?”

     “I did that once, and the seeds didn’t come. I left the ledge, and then when I returned,
seeds were there! I think the hand might be scared of me. I’ve been told before that I’m quite the intimidating figure.”

     Jay rolled his eyes, but found that he didn’t want to move away from the ledge. They
waited in silence for a few minutes. “You said the seeds come when the sun is over that building, right?”

     “Correct.”

     “Well, the sun is already behind that building, and the seeds aren’t out yet.”

     “Oh, I know.”

     Jay took a step back, nearly stumbling off the windowsill. “What do you mean ‘you
know?’”

     “The seeds used to come out regularly at the same time everyday for a long, long time.
But, they haven’t in a while.”

     “What? How long have they been not coming out?”

     “Hm. Around 60 days, I think.”

     “60 days?” Jay questioned, flabbergasted.

     “Yeah, but they’ll come out again.”

     “You think so?”

     “I know so.”

     Jay looked up at the windowsill the supposed seeds might appear. It looked in an even
worse shape than the one they stood on. It had more cracks and worn crevices than actual solid

material. It appeared as if any pressure on it would make the whole thing crumble.

     More silence, though the air around them felt loud. There was a certain anticipation, Jay
thought, but not for the seeds. Rather, he sensed a tension placed on himself. He felt like a father looking at his son eagerly waiting for his approval.

     “Are you still going to wait with me?”

     Jay took a moment, then replied calmly, “Yes, I will.”

     “I hoped you’d say that.”

     The two birds stared upward as the sun set behind them.

​