Blackbird

It was midwinter. An old retired mother sat on a cozy armchair next by the small fire place. The fire wasn't big - it was tiny - but it was strong enough to give warmth to the small log cabin. The woman was knitting a scarf for her little granddaughter who was just 5 years old.

Upon retiring, she took up a log cabin in the mountains not far from her hometown. As a young girl, she adored the mountains and hills. She looked out the window; everything was coated in dazzling white snow. The clear blue sky was refreshing to view.

She looked down to her halfdone scarf, wondered for a while, then looked back up at the window. There and then, she saw it - its beady red eyes stared back at her almond ones.

The blackbird.