All Puffed Up

Icy Birdhouse
Flash Fiction By: Christina Banks

Carl Cardinal finished preening and took a final look at his reflection in the window. Every feather was in place – his beak shined to a high gloss. He was, by far, the most handsome bird in the subdivision. Hadn’t he been told so many times?

Alighting from the bush, Carl fluttered across the yard, and into the woods beyond. Skillfully, dodging tree limbs and falling snow, he navigated his path. As he neared his destination, he gave his call. The sound was still echoing through the trees when he heard the reply. He changed his course, angling down and to the right. Carl chirped again. He had the most beautiful voice in the city. Hadn’t he been told so many times?