Bird strikes are nothing new. I know they perceive the reflection of the sky on glass as being more sky, and that’s why they fly right into windows and break their little necks. It doesn’t mean anything.
Only it feels as if it does.
It feels sinister. Like a bad omen.
Or maybe…a message from beyond.
I stop pacing and stand still in the middle of the room. With my heart beating like mad, I gaze up at the ceiling and whisper, “Michael?”
Nothing happens. The moment stretches out until my nerves are frayed with tension. When a door slams shut somewhere downstairs, I nearly faint in terror.
I tell myself it’s only Fiona, but don’t quite believe it. That eerie feeling of being watched creeps over me again, but I’m alone in the room.
Or am I?
Suddenly, everything in the room looks siniste
