Blue Tits
by John Yohe, 3.24am November 10th 2021

She took them out at the party, holding one in each hand, showing them to everyone.
They were perky and sleek, shining azure-ly in the late afternoon sun there in the
living room. David from payroll, of course, said they were nice, and everyone
laughed, but I thought that was both crude and inaccurate: they were beautiful. I
wanted to touch them, maybe stroke them a little, but was too nervous, or shy, to
ask, because what if she had said no? Or yes?


But David didn't even ask, just walked up and grabbed them, and I thought was a
little too rough, but they seemed fine afterwards, or anyways she didn't seem to
mind, which hurt. And after she covered them up, and the party was over, and I went
back to my apartment, I kept thinking of them, and her, and her smile, and their
color. And David's hands.