Skip to content

Aubergine

The cardinal hops up when it wakes, and tries to fold its wings down. It can’t. It chirps, sharp notes. Then it only struggles.

Aubergine watches and sketches: lean here, twist. Hop so.

“Oh my God,” says Pira, walking in.

Two loops of strong silk bind its wings at pinions and elbow-joint. It has to be silk; silk doesn’t break. The pectoral muscles of a bird are proportionately stronger than an elephant’s or an ant’s.

“I’m learning,” says Aubergine.

“That’s sick,” says Pira.

“What’s art but a mirror, to see how we affect nature?” asks Aubergine. “What’s dance but movement, restrained?”