Waking up was rough.
As soon as the night began to fade
into dawn, the sea parrot’s voice
would turn on like an alarm.
“Albert…Mister Roselli…” He could
hear his name being thrown at him.
He was a floor away but it didn’t matter.
He opened his eyes. The day was
a dull colored clay. He had to get up.
Yes, he thought of draping a cloth
over the fish tank, the way people do
with their canaries at night,
but the sea parrot wouldn’t allow it.
It wanted natural light. It was an
And as long as it stayed in his house,
slowly mending, Albert couldn’t go fishing.
He had to take another job to make ends
meet. He made origami. He got paid
by the swan.
Albert had been making them for years.
It wasn’t difficult work. He could make them
in his sleep. And it paid. Believe it or not,
there was always a demand.
So he was lucky to have this job.
After all, there couldn’t be too many
people making an origami living.
After he fed the sea parrot, Albert sat down
in the rocking chair. He pulled the blanket
over his legs and closed his eyes. Sometimes
the fish let him sleep for a while. Listen to
the popping sound of the fish eating and
the creaking of the slow rocking chair
levitated in the middle of a dark early morning.
While he was half awake, Albert also heard
the movement of something else. It was
prickly, like a ball of newspaper blown
gently across the floor.
to be continued...
(Photo of fake origami taken today
in woods where this novel ended.
The leaf below is also from there.)