The Bird's Dance

Peter and Lisa acted normally around each other. They talked gravely about a story they'd seen in the news, a natural disaster on another continent. Gilly would have preferred it if they'd argued. Peter ordered pizza for dinner, a treat. It arrived cold, orange grease thickening on its surface. She wiped her fingers on an Appian and pushed away her plate. The next morning instead of waiting in the car, she usually did. Her parents insisted that she clean the cage before leaving. Not for the first time she regretted ever asking for a bird. Worse than that, begging for one.