The Budgie on Elm Street
The budgie was small. That was the first thing you noticed about it—small, and green, and utterly unremarkable. It lived in a wire cage on the kitchen windowsill of apartment 3C, where the light came in weak and grey for most of the day and the radiator clanked at irregular intervals that Frank had never been able to figure out. Frank Donovan sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee that...
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