DEATH OF A BIRD!
DEATH OF A BIRD!
A bird was relaxed in a branch and mistakenly lost its footing.
It fell on Richmond's body, Richmond instinctively grabbed the assailant roughly until he discovered it was just a bird, a white small bird. It seemed harmless and pure.
He released his grip on the bird, only to find the bird unmoving. Its wings seemed broken and its neck was hanging unusually due to the force he utilized in grabbing it at first.
Richmond was surprised, he didn't apply much pressure, and yet the bird died in his hands.
As the lifeless body of the small white bird lay in Richmond's hands, he felt a profound sense of remorse wash over him.
He examined the fragile creature, its once pristine feathers now ruffled and stained. A somber realization dawned on him — life, even in its smallest form, was incredibly delicate.
The tranquility of the moment had been disrupted, not by malice or ill intent, but by a mere twist of fate.