My mother has arranged for my sister to stay at my house and I’m
perturbed. My sister insults me, then goes to sleep in my bed. With no
place to sleep, I roam the night looking for solace. I pick up some
fares in my taxi. My distress seeps over and I spazz on a pair of
customers because the female of the couple has made me angry. After
dropping them off, I smash my knuckles on the cheap plastic
architecture of a book repository, cracking the decorative black and
white plastic veneer.

The following afternoon, I’m working. I pick up those same customers. I
apologize. They are actually very chill about it. We see something in
the sky. It appears to be thousands of swirling birds around
a thin cloud. We look in wonder.

Are they migrating? I try to identify the birds. Maybe
they are swallows. Suddenly one comes very close – diving. No. Falling.
It is dead, its feathers askew. Now we see what is in the sky: it is a
tornado that has touched down in a lake.

The sky fills with clouds as the tornado retreats upward, carrying the
churning spiral of birds with it. Debris starts to strike the roof of my
car. It’s raining dirt, blood and feathers. A swan wing falls on the
windshield and stays there. A terrible smell: slaughter and muck and
fish. The dead birds fall from the sky with the fishes. I call a coworker. “is
this happening where you are?”

“It’s just starting.”

Later, at home: My roof is covered in debris and dead animals. There
will be a lot of clean up. I feel fatigue. In the back yard, an aardvark
that has fallen from the sky is missing all its hair, its face frozen
in a death mask.

A clean rain comes, and the roof runs blood. The ground foams red and
black. This is not the apocalypse, but feels like a very big job.
Nevertheless, I feel lucky to have seen such a strange event and wish
to share it with others.