War and Peace...and Fumata Bianca
in the doldrum of so many wars on ground in air on seas and then AI... Pope Leo's warning to the world; Encyclical is the new word learnt. the kittens have all morphed into little furballs bounding rebounding, chasing shadows and randomness. Adrift, a maina's glass eye stares holding nothing but the grey ceiling. The brood shrieks, suddenly hungry and impatient... Josie, the mother parades her find clutching it with her deadly incisers, loosened plumage gently brush the floor: never again shall I covet them. Never again would the pages of old books be turned to admire the feathers found on many a walk. The notes left unsung cling to the humid summer air, cloying and heavy, smeared in the yellowing smell of blood and gleeful cries...a sense of victory, violence, art...repose. Midst this incessant buzz of unfounded joy, the solitary being lingers within its rampart: prayer rises like a smoke signal, an SOS to whoever mig...