I saw two dead birds today. Of course, I thought of you; saw your face, how you’d squint in an attempt to not get teary. You’d skip a step, reach over to me. I know how much you see in these kinds of things.

The first was on the sidewalk this morning, the corner of Devon and Clark. It looked like maybe she’d flown into a window, the way birds sometimes do; I guess it’s the way their eyes are. Glass, asphalt, water… Perfect little bird body, feathers still smooth from the rain this morning. As soon as I noticed her, I stopped. There was a song playing on the radio across the street, too low to make out.

The other bird was outside. Just now. In front of the curb, before the doorway… I had to step over it to get in. I dropped my keys near its head and almost couldn’t stand back up. Its eyes were rusted shut, the breeze whispering through its feathers so it almost looked alive.

And I came inside, and had to send you a text. I know we’ve not talked in a while, but I had to let you know – It was like, I saw these birds, and felt you were near in some way. If that makes any sense.