Entry Number 050603A

I set the bird down, nodding gently. Maybe there was no saving this bird. It was broken and it wouldn't survive, and this world was all about survival of the fittest - at least that's what grandfather Brendol said whenever he spat at my father.

We went back into the building and, drenched in rain, continued up the stairs towards our apartment. I could still hear the bird's sad chirping in my ears and see the black silhouette of it drenched on the cold pavement.