The End

Dead still.

The small bird rested on its side against the concrete, an awkward pose.  I captured images with my camera for reference.  (Amateur ornithologist.)

Suddenly the bird twitched.  It was still alive.  Maybe it was just stunned.  A fledging that fell out of its nest and crawled away or a tyro flyer struck by a passing vehicle.

Now it lay in the open on the sidewalk.  I wanted to improve its chances for survival.   Someone racing along on a bicycle might run it over.  Or a dog might see it and quickly finish its life with a couple of chomps.

I spotted some litter, a black plastic lid.  I used the lid to carefully move the bird off to the side of the office building, right next to the wall in the shade.  It chirped a few times.

As I walked away I noticed someone with a dog.  The owner and the dog went in the opposite direction.

Before I left the area I looked back at where I had placed the bird.  A dark-haired woman stood over the tiny victim.  It must have been chirping again, pitiful cries.  The woman decided there was a better way to help the bird.  The human angel of mercy stomped on it, twice.

The end.