Three magpies stand evenly spaced, like sentries, on the yellowing oval. I stop walking and watch them for a few minutes. The birds do not move. I turn and stand facing the same direction. I look into the sky, a plane is coming in to land. Finally, one of them moves. Searching the grass for an insect.
I start to walk. Past the house with the artificial flowers. They are like a sad offering to the god of kitsch.
I think it’s getting time for me to go home.
