“I’M LATE; I’M LATE, for a very important date…”
The colored tatters of his jacket rippled in the wind.
She grabbed hold of his arm.
“Wait. Take a deep breath. In. Out.”
…And the Starling flew up underneath the roof’s ledge edge, disappearing into the hole.
“I’m LATE. I’M LATE FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE!”
The Starling slipped in an out of that hole several times that day.
(Starlings wear a tattered gold vest underneath the black feathers.)
I wonder where the Mad Hatter left his chapeau.