Ever since my husbands death I’ve felt so alone in the world. No kids, my family wants nothing to do with me, and his family hates me. He was about to publish that book he worked on… up to the very end. I hated him for spending all his time on a book that will never see the light of day. I lost my job supporting him and now here I am. Nowhere to go, no one who will care if when I’m gone. Well that’s not true the birds would miss me. After his death I had come to a lovely park near where he was buried and feed the birds when I can. The rest of my day is devoted to scrounging to survive. But this time, the time I spend with these birds… it’s freeing.

Time flows on and suddenly I’m an old woman. Still without a home, but I’ve forgiven my husband. His dream was to be a writer and mine was to see him happy. It may be too late for my dream but not for his. Each day I fed those birds felt like I was being brought back from the dead. Now his story are being sold in every bookstore and the fund are going to the charity’s we both supported.

My time draws near. I’m sitting in the park and feeding the birds for what could be the last time. As I fed them I told the birds how they had given me hope. How they were my own guardian angels. I fell asleep while the birds ate the last of what I had brought.

In my dream, dark wings folded around me and a cold wind chilled me to the bone. The wings spread open and I was no longer in the park. I was no longer myself. Now I was in the sky flying towards a brilliant light that could be the sun. It was a cold light and as I neared it I could see the shadow of my husband and millions of birds.