Birdsong.
The other day, me, my mum, and Peter (mum’s partner) were having a roast dinner in the dining room and having conversations about dogs and apple pie and the noises Peter’s stomach makes when he’s eaten too much rice, when we heard a cooing noise coming from the fireplace.
“Sounds like an owl’s fallen down the chimney”, I said.
“Nah, I don’t think it’s there, it’s probably sat on the chimney and cooing down it or something”, said Peter.
“Maybe it was your stomach?” joked mum. The cooing continued, and scratchy, flappy noises were heard, accompanied with more cooing.
“I’m sorry Peter, but there is a bird behind the fireplace”, I said. Our fireplace is one of those electric ones that gets installed, that we had never actually used since we moved in many years ago. It wouldn’t be a problem if it was a proper fireplace, as the bird would just fall through and we’d let it out. Unless the fire was on anyway. Eventually, Peter agreed with me. As we listened closer, there was indeed something on the other side of the fireplace. We started tearing apart the fireplace, pulling it out and ripping bits off to reveal that there was a flimsy metal sheet covering up the entrance to the chimney with a slim slot the same size as the slot in a letterbox, almost like some sort of miniature prison door. We peered in and couldn’t see anything, or hear anything in fact. Peter starting cooing, and so did I, not that we sounded anything like real birds, and then I went and got a torch, and Peter shone it through.
“OH! There it is, look!” said Peter. I had a peep and saw a very large wood pigeon, huddled up into itself. It was very quiet and still.
“Is it dead?” I asked.
“No, probably just frightened, go and get me a stick or something so I can give it a small prod”. I came back with the only thing I could find, a huge golf umbrella, but it wouldn’t fit in the slot, so Peter decided to try and rip open the metal seal, which was actually only sealed on with duct tape, and eventually ripped open part of it. He stuck the umbrella in and gave it a nudge, and it fell to the side, rocking about like a dusty ball of feathers.
“Oh, this bird is definitely dead, and has been for a while. We’d best get it out anyway or it could stink up the whole place”. Peter reached his hand into the gap, and after many attempts, managed to grab it and dropped its body on the wooden floor. It bounced a couple of times, and tipped to the side. It was all dried up, eyes still shiny.
“Those bird noises probably came from a bird that fell and managed to get back up the chimney, maybe”, said Peter. He scooped it up and put it in a plastic bag, then put it in the bin outside.
