Word Count: 445
He watched the birds circling, circling high up in the sky out back over the fields. She’d’ve liked that he thought, and spat on the ground.
She claimed she was one with nature. Was happy as a lark out here in the backwoods of upstate New York. He hated it with all of his heart. They left the city because without a job, they could no longer afford to live there and her father just happened to die and leave them the small farm.
He went in and poured out a third cup of coffee. Decided he’d call the constable once again to check in. See if they knew something since he’d reported her missing. Told them at the time that they’d had a big fight. Was afraid she might’ve gone up to her sister’s in Canada though her sister said, no.
It was a long morning, just like the morning before and they spread like oil into long afternoons, and nights when the tree frogs made sleep impossible without a good couple glasses of whiskey. Which she complained about constantly too.
They had little to talk about, little left to say to each other except grumbling and sarcastic remarks. But she talked to her birds, the damn birds, all the time. And worse, she tried to tell him that they talked back to her too. She insisted it was going to be an early, cold winter. Said the hummingbirds told her so. And those pitiful mourning doves gave her notice hours before any storms came in.
He hated the way that she did that, told her it made her look nuts. She didn’t care, she went through her days contented, didn’t seem to notice how much he hated it here. Even the gardens she planted by watching insect behavior, proudly serving the harvest at every meal. Peas and lettuce that tasted like grass. He was sick to death of zucchini. Though he had to admit the tomatoes were good.
He looked again at the sky. The birds were still circling. Spiraling in slow lazy loops closer to earth. Big birds. She’d’ve been thrilled and excited. Likely have told him they came to bid her goodbye.
When they came out they wanted to dig up the back fields and he shivered a bit in response. He was hoping he’d wait just long enough then sell off the place and go back to the city, where he felt he belonged.
When he asked them how they had known, they told him. Turkey vultures, they said, them vultures always know where to look. If you watch them. If you listen, they’ll tell you just where to look.
