A man finds an injured bird on his way to work. This is a short, strange story that apparently started as a dream. I’ve read it four or five times and it’s more puzzling each time.

As I fumble with my key, I hear a strange mewling at my feet. A baby bird fallen from a nest in the eves is shuddering on the pavement. It’s squeezing its eyes shut with all its might. Pink and veiny, it weighs about as much as a paper clip when I scoop it up in my hand and place it gently in the pocket of my windbreaker jacket.