"It's the birds in the trees who greet me each morning whom I worship because they bring joy to my heart."
"Just repeat that," she asked him, flicking her soft, silky, blonde hair off her brow whilst tilting her finely-sculpted face ever-so slightly as if in curiosity.
"It's the birds in the trees who greet me each morning whom I worship because they bring joy to my heart."
"Oh - and why haven't got a, you know, a real bird - you know, the ones you can... fuck and talk to?"
"Because ‘y’ is a crooked letter and you can't make it straight."
"Ugh come on man... quit the crap and tell me!" She probed again, only this time it was more like a demand.
"I'll tell you later."
* * *
Karbuncus then took a slug of his beer, plonked the empty glass down on the bar-counter and left the busy, smoke-filled room.
(to be continued)
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