Birdcages: Aurelia and the Albatross

Birdcages: Aurelia and the Albatross

The docks are quiet this early in the morning, no one awake except the bakers wafting yeasty smells from their brick ovens. The clock tower across the bridge wheezes and groans, its resigned chiming reluctantly acknowledging a new day. Londinium is two-tone this morning, shades of gray and sepia outlining the edges of stone buildings

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Birdcages: The Gift of Memory

Birdcages: The Gift of Memory

by A.C. Williams Old Man Harrington’s got a parrot-bird that’s squawking like a banshee from its perch in an ugly cage. But I cannae say who I pity more, the poor beastie or the fool Harrington cons into buying it. Mr. Quinby pokes his old wet nose in the back of my knee to nudge

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