The Birds

They sat in a row. Cuddling together on the branch. Three of them in decreasing sizes, their cheeks rosey, their plumage fluffed. The branch had just come into flower, waxey delicate petals, soft against the roughness of the bark.

Yes, she thought, nice. Would it do in the downstairs loo? What would Richard say, hitsch? Or worse? Well,lets see what it makes, the frame is a bit scratched, but the print is sound.

The auctioneer started the bidding. Who will start me? £10, £5, come on ladies and gentlemen, a pretty picture like this." He was in a hurry, a hundred lots an hour was his target.

She walked out into the car park and wondered why she had bought it but then £1, surely it was worth £1.

The surge of people, carrier bags, parcels, small packages safely clutched. She stood with the Birds. She had always liked them, love at first sight. Suddenly she was being hustled in front of the cameras, she was answering questions about her purchase. Well, what would Richard say now? She and they were stars, the interviewer said her £1 bargain should be insured for a minimum of £3,000.

On her way into the car park it wasn't only the birds that had a rosey glow.