The bird is sleeping. That is the first thing I understand. And perhaps the only thing I will ever understand with any certainty.
Maya was sitting in the lobby. She was small. She wore a yellow coat. The yellow coat was bright against the gray marble. She was very still. I sat next to her because there was no one else to sit next to and because the floor was cold and I like warm things. I hummed the tune my mother used to hum. The one about the little bird in the tree. Security guard came. He was tall. His face was flat...
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