You feel the helpless creature under your chin.
It meekly chirps.
It is wet and muddy and miserable.
You convince yourself that you are being merciful.
You convince yourself that this about you and not the tiny creature.
You turn your mouth sideways and aim your jaws at the baby bird.
You clench your jaws.
You feel the warmth of the bird’s end run through your teeth and slide down your tongue and into your throat.
You keep telling yourself this was better than the alternative.
You choose to…