I might be over thinking this but, here I go anyway:
It was time for the weekly groceries refill and I was on my way home on foot, having missed the hourly bus and worried about drinking sour milk if I stayed to wait 30 minutes in the hot sun. I was prepared for this, or so I thought…
Within 15 minutes of feeling like a donkey laden with bags of groceries from the shops on each shoulder trodding away, I was counting down to the the sweet relief of sitting on my bum. It wasn’t easy, nor was it a short road home. I bumped into a friend mid-way and reluctantly paused to say hi while my eyes screamed for help. He didn’t take the hint, a wise choice.
Determined no-one could help me but myself, I focused on the road that led home. I sang to the tunes playing from my iPod, trying to lift my own spirits and took a usual turn to duck between the trees when suddenly something smacked me in the side of the head.
What the F?!
I turned in the direction it should have landed and saw a big black bird swooping back up into the trees. I should have known… a Magpie.
Oddly, all this time, my feet kept carrying me forward, away from the crazy bird, towards home and safety; while my head spun a little. The area where I got hit was still throbbing as if a turkey leg had struck me in the back of my head. If I was bleeding, my body took no note of it; my legs were too tired and my shoulders hurt from the bag handles.
I tried to maneuver my sore arm to my head. I was pretty sure the beak didn’t hit me and my hand came away clean.
Then it struck me – that’s a rude bird! To hit someone when they’re down and weak!
I’m sure it thought I was a threat walking ‘too close’ to its nest or something but seriously, my hands weren’t even mobile enough to move; needless to say climb up a stupid tree just to attack its nest.
I actually have better things to do, really, I do.
If I were hit by a person, I could at least confront them and find out why they decided to pick on me. It wasn’t fair to just smack and fly! You can’t just hit someone for no reason and get away with it! But it seems the Magpie could. Even if my arms had more feeling in them, that big bird with its sharp beak and a thirst for attacking random passer-bys, sent my courage running and I decided, rightly, fleeing would be the best decision there.
My arms would be no protection in this situation.
Sweaty, exhausted and with a throb in the side of my head, I finally arrived at my doorstep and unpacked the chicken thighs I had purchased.
Perhaps for all the chicken we’ve eaten, the Magpie was just exacting poultry’s vengeance on the human race – or on me in this case.
That still doesn’t make the pain go away…
nor the feeling of being bested by a bird.