i killed our pet bird yesterday. it was not my intention, i suppose most events that end up in death of another was unintentional. that life itself has these moments where events happen out of our control or where words tend to come out of our mouths where we immediately wish we could take them back. but we cannot go back, the words were said, the deed was done, the sin was laid.

its feathers on the ground remind me of the event, even as the heart beat revs down and time forms between us already healing the wound it created. shall i brush it off as a small mistake, a blip, a small mistake or look at it as something fundamental, something representing a deeper meaning? if i rescued it does it matter, if i save a few more or give up eating chicken will my world balance back?

when i look back i cannot imagine that the day would have started that way. each morning i tell myself i feel fine, that the savings are enough and my family and friends are right beside me. i count my stuff in an imaginary calculator in my mind, i look at the illusory river coming towards me bringing more stuff, more choices, i imagine weddings and long swims under blue skies with ice cream and laughter. what is it that lies underneath this that made me strike out on that pale grey morning? what causes a man to snap or a women to shout or a dog to lash out?