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tonight I broke the neck of a sparrow

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

It started out so nicely. A fun day with the boy in the park.

And then, as I was horsing around on the street, it happened. I was running in long loping strides to pretend to be evading my son on his bike. I came upon a part of the street where a sheltered doorway was recessed at an angle. In the triangular space, a sparrow took off as I arrived. It got about two or three flaps along before colliding with my raised foot.

With a frantic flapping of wings, the poor little thing arced backwards and did a couple of somersaults on the concrete. When it came to rest, it was lying on its back, and its head was facing backwards. The legs twitched, the beak opened and shut, and the thing died.

Just as Kenny rolled up, the birds claws relaxed, slowly closing.