Semi-Daily Scribbles

Tucked under the eaves of the rundown Victorian on the corner of 3rd and Landon, a nest sat vacant of swallows for decades. A permanent tenant moved into the space, and birds avoided  flying too close. The nest was no longer home to eggs and chicks, but it was far from empty.  A thorough inventory revealed four RC Cola bottle caps, a Black Jack Gum wrapper, the Monopoly  iron, a torn picture of a fairy princess asleep on a mushroom, and a frayed, pink grosgrain ribbon flecked with rust-colored stains. Perhaps a swallow purloined the items and brought them back to the keep. It is a plausible supposition. But only small birds flying in close would be able to sense the chill and electricity come through the wall behind the nest. There was no rest to be had in the little hidden spot. Not when eager hands emerged from shade and mist to touch the treasures of childhood.