PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Carter stared out the window, his chin resting on the sill. He counted the birds sitting atop the wire. Sixty-eight. Another had joined the sixty-seven that had been there yesterday, which had been sixty-six the day before. Each day another joined the others, and although Carter watched them almost endlessly, he never saw one leave.
One bird sat there for each day since what his parents had dubbed “the accident.” They were beginning to weigh the line down–a mirror of the guilt weighing on him. It hadn’t been an accident. He’d meant to smother his sister with that pillow.
—
Like Carter, I’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts lately, but not because I’ve smothered anyone with a pillow. I don’t know why, but I do know that it’ll pass. It always does.
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
Click here to read stories from the other Fictioneers.
Adam Ickes 
May 7th, 2016 at 2:41 AM
It’s a great metaphor for guilt, but I would have liked to know what was causing the birds to sit there
May 7th, 2016 at 5:44 AM
Carter’s having a hard time living with what he’s done, as it should be.
May 7th, 2016 at 6:53 AM
Brilliant and original on the metaphors for the pic. Intriguing story! Super duper, Adam!
May 7th, 2016 at 12:31 PM
Great story and I hope you feel more like your self again soon, Adam.
May 7th, 2016 at 4:21 PM
it must be boring counting birds. them come the day, he’ll start counting his days in prison for a change.
May 7th, 2016 at 5:41 PM
Them birds are telling him to own up. Hope you soon feel better.
May 7th, 2016 at 6:13 PM
Dear Adam,
He doesn’t sound remorseful. I relieved to hear you haven’t smothered anyone with a pillow. Nicely done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
May 8th, 2016 at 4:29 PM
Maybe one of these days the birds staring back are too much and he feels guilt. And maybe not, he seems the cold-blooded type. Good story.
May 9th, 2016 at 10:20 PM
I like the story, grisly tough it is. Feel better.
May 10th, 2016 at 5:27 PM
What a creepy, disturbed child. Somewhere along the line, the parents missed some warning signs that shouted, “Help me”. Well written as only you can, Adam. I hope you feel better soon. If you stay depressed, get help. — Suzanne