And he went away

The Tree Pie flew down close to the old woman. Gingerly she lifted her right hand, the forefinger and the middle held close together. It was a weathered hand that had touched and been touched in a million different ways. The bird seemed to understand that the experienced hand would be as good a perch as any. The weathered face moved a tiny bit attempting a semblance of a smile - like the first few words uttered by the baby that are only approximations to what is intended. But Oh so beautiful they are! Even more than the well articulated word.

She sat like a mannequin in a store window not even blinking her eyes. The Tree Pie cocked his head from side to side surveying the area till he spied a juicy treat, a spider hanging head down from his web that was glinting in the Sun. A magnificent swoop and the spider didn't even realize when he had become the bird's snack. She blinked then, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat; she felt a constriction in her throat that she found hard to describe. It was a similar feeling that she had felt that night when she accompanied her son to the airport and when he hugged her and pulled away. He turned, and took quick long strides towards the Check-in counter, not once looking back. Her hands felt that they were useless suddenly, an appendage she did not know what to do with. They hung at her sides, lifeless. The rest of her body obeyed and when her son's friend said, "Aunty, let's go.", she turned around mechanically and each foot moved as if the controls were in someone else's hands.