At the snap of his finger, the shed ceiling splits, and an outcry of distress shoots from the throats of the birds. They immediately bolt, flying out of their enclosures in a panic, running into walls, a couple smacking into my head as they try to escape. My father drops them one by one with his magic. Necks snapped, they land in piles, feathers bursting up, screeches filling the air. The hatchlings’ cries pierce my ears, and the mother starts to flap her wings, baring blunt teeth at my father in vicious protectiveness. He doesn’t kill her, but breaks her wing instead, snapping it and making
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Jesus…
