The Nest

A nest was built under some old pieces of cardboard. Two eggs were left in it. They had no idea that someone was peeing at them through a crack in the sheets of cardboard. A woman had just started to tidy up her balcony when she discerned a strange pile of twigs, poking out of the cardboard left there after her moving in. She stopped tidying up and went back to her apartment. Should she throw the eggs away and kill these unborn creatures? Should she wait until they hatch and begin chirping on her balcony? What? She hates those terrible noises produced by birds. She would rather become a murderer than expose her ears to that awful sound.

She found herself on her balcony again. But, instead of throwing the nest into garbage, she reached for her mobile and, on the spur of the moment, took a picture. Then she did what every modern woman would do – she posted it on facebook. Her timeline was enriched with a photo described as “my new condo”.

She did not have to wait long for comments, varying from “Cute”, “How sweet!” to “Make scrambled eggs” and an ambiguous one “Show the pigeon what you can do!”.

In the evening, she was training on her running machine and listening to her favourite music, when her phone rang.

“Darling, I saw this lovely picture on facebook.”

“Mum, what are you talking about?”

“About the nest.”

“Oh.”

“I hope you didn’t destroy it.”

“No. I’ve totally forgotten…”

“Darling, it’s a sign.”

“What?”

“It’s an obvious sign that…”

“Mum, you’re a horoscope freak.”

“…it’s high time you had a baby.”

“A baby? Are you kidding me?”

“An egg symbolises a new life.”

“Yeah, I know. But look at it this way: I’ve just moved to this amazing apartment and begun a new life. That’s it.”

“Darling, both you and I know that it’s…”

“It’s only a pigeon’s nest.”

“… high time you became a mother.”

“I have a job, a loan and plenty of plans for the future.”

“If you wait longer, it’ll be too late.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to set a cat among the pigeons.”

“I can’t believe that you’re only interested in feathering your own nest.”

“But I AM.”

“How about your boyfriend. Why has he not proposed yet.”

“Because we’re not going to get married.”

“You should. Or else you’ll be left with nothing.”

“Mum, I’m hanging up.”

“Darling, you’ll regret one day that you haven’t got a child and a husband.”

“Don’t you regret that you have?”

“No,” she tried to make her voice firm.

“Are you going to tell me that you love this alcoholic?”

“Yes, I love him,” she tried to control her voice.

“Do you also love your troublesome daughter who has flown the nest and doesn’t want to be nagged at?”

“Of course, I do,” she answered confidently.

“So, you should love your daughter even if she’s a childless bachelorette.”

Fumed with rage, she hung up. She didn’t want to hear her mother’s response. She opened her balcony door and violently uncovered the cardboard. Suddenly, a pigeon flew out. She covered her head with arms. It was only the mother of these two eggs. She grabbed the eggs and put them into her refrigerator. She was going to eat them for breakfast.

 

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