blackbird by Gina Frisken

Rita walked slowly down Goodhope Street and felt the October sun warm her slender body. One raven was perched silently on a nearby tree. She opened her handbag and pulled out her keys. Rita followed the raven as it flew past. The two birds cawed. The mailbox was empty and the path to the door was covered in leaves. She turned the key and was struck on the side of her face. Stunned, she staggered inside and bumped into the hallway stand. The drawer dropped to the floor and a small newspaper clip fell out.

 

She slowly lowered herself down onto the first step holding onto the rail. Rita emptied her handbag and some coins and a rosary rolled out. She grabbed a handkerchief and put it to her cheek. The smell brought back the memories.

 

A long strand of grey hair hung over her face and pulling it back, she pinned into place. She didn’t have to read the 1962 article  “Couple, Twin Sons Killed” to know what it contained.

 

Rita slowly turned and looked up the staircase. As she stepped up, she noticed that one of her black shoes had a few drops of blood.