Birds Attacking

Saw a memo on my desk, everyone else gone from the office, memo said: birds attacking. That’s all it said. Well, and To: (my name) and Cc: and the Date and our company’s Name and everything, but other than that. My radio-in my car-was turned off for the time being, what with there being a pledge drive on the public radio station and not much else to listen to, so I didn’t hear how there were tanks lined up around the perimeter of the Parkcrest Hills Shopping Complex; I didn’t hear how there were men (and women) with something that looked like grenade launchers, not that your average citizen would happen to know what a grenade launcher looked like, and some kind of heavy body-armor and the kind of thing you see them wearing in movies about disease, like the full-body suits that are white or blue or orange, with the boxy helmet and clear plastic face-plate. My cell-phone was on the fritz too, I think the battery was dying. All I saw was the memo that said, birds attacking.

I was always the last one to know. No one ever told me anything.