The birdcage looked like a miniature Spanish colonial church. On its tin floor lied four dead parakeets. The fifth and last one was breathing rapidly on its perch.
Don't die, don't die, thought Linda. She had been sweeping in her pajama pants and noticed the tiny witness panicking. It had deliberately been left alive. As she hunched in front of the birdcage, her large brown eyes took in the scene. The bright green parakeet's breathing began to slow. A shiver quickly undulated its feathers, and its breathing slowed gently. Now there was one breath. Now there was another. Its pink little feet began to relax. Its eyelids began to close. Its head drooped and its stiff little body leaned forward, and fell on the tin birdcage floor with a PLUNK! Linda sighed and shook her head.
Her psychic sister had been at it again.
