“Just give me…one…second—” My hands extend, successfully cupping around the tiny creature until she’s nestled between my palms. “Got you!”
A few cheers echo throughout the restaurant.
I beam brightly, moving across the floor in my chunky heels. “Everyone’s meal will be comped today! So sorry for the inconvenience.”
Barreling toward the front door, I hold the bird close to my chest, grazing the pad of my thumb over her silken body. The sky is gray and colorless today, the air colder than our freezer-burned calamari. A gust of icy wind steals my breath as I land on the front stoop, the door slamming closed behind me. The bird startles, burrowing into my hands. “It’s okay, little one. You’re safe now.”
I take a moment to inspect her wing. It’s bent at an odd angle, and a thin line of blood stains the delicate feathers. Not a lot, but enough to make my stomach twist.
“You’re tougher than you look, aren’t you?” I murmur, shielding her from the wind. She trembles against my palms, her frail chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven beats.
I scan the street, but there’s nowhere safe to take her. No vet nearby, no time to find a wildlife rescue. My options are limited, so I go with the best one I have.
I rip off my apron and create a makeshift nest, tucking her inside to keep her warm.
“I know this isn’t ideal. But you’re gonna have to trust me for a little while.” Thinking quickly, I march over to Alex’s car in the parking lot and place her on the floor of the passenger seat, hoping she’ll hang on until my shift is up in an hour. Then I’ll need a better plan.
A sweet, songful chirp sees me off, wrapping my heart in a tender hug.
As I jog back over to the restaurant, my brain conjures up poetic words, as it often does. It’s always spinning with rhymes, haikus, and makeshift lyrics. I’ve never been great at math, but give me adjectives, adverbs, and alliteration, and I’ll spin it into something meaningful.
I rush back through the diner, my eyes meeting with Kenna’s as she refills the newspaper man’s mug of coffee.
“What the hell?” she mouths to me, her box-dyed blond hair reflecting off the ceiling lights, a contrast to her warm, golden skin.
I stretch a strained smile and wave her off, my anxiety spiking as I approach the kitchen. Alex is going to be pissed.
The double-swing door pushes open, and sure enough—
“Annalise, what the fuck? Where’ve you been?” Alex is tenser than a coiled spring as he looms over the industrial stove, sweating bullets, his hair pulled back into a small bun at the nape of his neck. “All these orders are backing up and getting cold. You’re pissing me the fuck off.”
“One minute!” I reach for a square napkin and scribble down the new words brewing in my mind before they leave me. Fetching a fresh apron, I tuck the scrap of paper into my front pocket, eager to add it to my growing mountain of random napkin poems.
Bleak skies and shattered wings
And still she sings
Hope shines brightest in fragile things
“Sorry,” I call out, returning to the expo window that’s already filled with orders waiting to be expedited. “We had a situation.”
“What situation?” He hollers over at Maurice tending to the deep fryer. “I need that fried chicken five minutes ago. Jesus.”
“On it, Chef!”
I read through the tickets, my chest constricting, knowing how behind we are after the ten-plus minute bird fiasco. “There was a bird bleeding all over the dining room. I took care of it.”
“Took care of it? Why didn’t you ask the maintenance guy, whatever-the-fuck his name is?”
“Bradley.” My lips purse. “I was already there. I panicked.”
He grumbles under his breath. “All American, table seven.”
Another order of hot food slides onto the metal shelf. Panic grips me for abeat as I stare at the array of plates and drinks, feeling overwhelmed, too clogged up to get back on track.
I’m twenty-one years old, and this isn’t how I envisioned my life: pulling double shifts at my boyfriend’s restaurant, getting screamed at on the daily, going home with sore feet, greasy skin, a bruised ego, and a dying sense of self-worth.
I just want to write. Breathe music, words, and experiences.
