Witness

It looked like an eagle. The black kite sailed easily onto the high voltage lines, a hundred or so around the deserted poultry stand fourty feet below, foraging for scraps. Sunday morning in the village. I was alone in the ajacent field, watching, the red clay still warm beneath my feet.

Its wings were huge as it flexed them high over its body but suddenly, a single wing touched the overhead ground wire. A brilliant blue flash and explosion seemed to come from its chest along with a cloud of feathers amid thousands of volts of electricity. The others scattered in a deafening din of screeching alarm while the victim pitched over, still reflexively hanging onto the wire, the ten pound bird now swinging upside down.

I hurried my pace toward the wire as one set of talons released and it now clung by one foot, still frozen to the wire. As I reached the spot beneath the wire, it dropped like a rock as the other foot released. Ten feet from ground, in an instant, it unfolded its wings and flew. It flapped away, noisily calling after the others.

I looked around. No one else in the usually teeming market place. No witnesses. This happens to me way too much. In fact, its been a lifetime.