Feast On His Flesh

I have friends over during the weeks sometimes. I am a party animal in that respect. Today I hosted Cuthbert for chicken fajitas. Cuthbert is a local Liverpool lad, but his accent is not so strong that you cant understand what he is saying. He calls me 'cherub' a lot, and often I don't understand why he says some of the things he says, but you put up with it. He is also a compulsive liar.

Anyway, mid dinner I hear voices in the court yard. Sounded like someone had found a dead body. I looked out the window and saw nothing. I walked down the stairs with Cuthbert to find out what the noises were about and there, sat in a corner of the courtyard was a bird of prey, a sparrow hawk I thought, with a pigeon pinned to the ground under its claws, one wing still flapping as it tried to get away. I was fascinated by it. Cuthbert was even more excited than I was. We watched for a few minutes and had a staring contest with the bird which looked at us in a way that made me think we were its next target. It was a big bird.

The wing had stopped flapping and hawk started pecking at the pigeons upper body. It made a sound like you would hear when tearing expensive wrapping paper. Or when you are ripping flesh. Feathers were flying everywhere, it was quite moving in a natural predator vs. prey type of way. It was wrong but then I thought it was no different than a trip down to the local butcher (you should see my butcher). Cuthert piped up "It was so exciting.... I enjoyed watching it so much that at one point i thought about touching myself".

That bit was definitely wrong. Fajitas were tastey though.