When K. went home early in the morning and turned his car into the short, ice-coated driveway, he saw the bird. It was a blackbird. It was standing on one of the posts without moving. Its bird feet were sticking in a thin layer of snow, which made it look as if it didn’t have any feet and was just lying there, in the snow, motionless, like a disoriented tennis ball that has been knocked a long way out of bounds. READ MORE…
Posts by Susan Thorne
Translation Tuesday: “Well, then?” by Lutz Seiler
"He looked at the bird through the windshield and the bird looked at him in the car. He didn’t move."