Birds: Three Line Tales Week 91


photo prompt by Julien Laurent via Unsplash

Jarrod enticed the birds with the poisoned biscuit. Rumour had it the stones would topple if the birds departed. Soon he’d know. The birds came, talons cutting, beaks pecking, wings flapping but none ate. The only departure was Jarrod as he ran bleeding.  

In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales

About Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
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2 Responses to Birds: Three Line Tales Week 91

  1. I know exactly how scary this situation can be. I had to feed my brother’s caged and trained hawks for the week that he and the rest of my family went to Hawaii. I was 18, in my first year of college, and he gave me 30 minutes of instruction and practice. Hawks will only eat live food so I had to go into their cages, one by one, wearing a leather glove on my hand as I held it out to the bird, toss a piece of raw liver into the air, wait till the bird grabbed it, and then stand perfectly still while the bird came at me with its talons extended, hoping it would land on my hand to eat and not tear my eyes out. Five hawks, seven days, twice a day. Rumor had it my brother would be grateful. I don’t even think he ever said thank you.

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