paradigm shift

 

I enter the house.

There is a stillness.

It does not last.

Beaky parrot perched atop the kitchen door lets a few screams which even by his usual standards are blood curdling.

I pause.

There's something not right.

The parrot allows himself a few more rauks of high pitch and uneven timbre.

He's definitely trying to tell me something.

I approach.

He shrieks louder if that is possible.

His eyes are staring at me desperately trying to warn me.

Realisation dawns.

The parrot really doesn't like my new haircut.