“I’m … I’m sorry.”

The small red bird squirmed in my trembling, boney hands as I sat by a smoldering, smoky fire. Tears ran down my sallow, sunken cheeks while the panicked cardinal struggled.

“I know I’m going back on my promise. I’m so sorry.”

His small head twitched repeatedly from left to right and my grip tightened. I was left with insufficient energy to muster another raspy apology and only enough conscience to manage a question in my mind—how did it come to this?

***

[stay tuned for the next installment of “Cardinal Sin”]