By Rick Trushel
Andy mumbles to Lola about his four tours of duty in the Middle East and his time in Afghanistan. Should he tell her the stories of the men he’s killed—the landmine in Paktika.
Lola bobs her head and pecks his scruffy cheek. She sways side to side sounding out the depths of his hollow blue eyes. His lips are chapped and his eyes tired, but he grins back. Since coming home he’s never felt so at ease.
Plucking lime green feathers from her bedraggled breast, she drops them gently onto his stooping, scarred shoulder.
This is soul talk, he intuits.
Great job Rick. Love the characters. Nice surprise.
Being a Vietnam vet, I can equate to this story. Enjoyed it to the fullest.
So sweet! Good one.
Affecting piece. The combo of ‘lime green feathers from her bedraggled breast’ and the fact that he has no-one but a parrot to talk to really stops one in tracks.
Parrot…someone to talk to. Such moving story!
exquisite jewel. so much to “intuit” in so few words. . .
I was anticipating Lola might be his dog so the parrot is indeed a surprise
. A lot said in an tiny space.