Then he said, “I’ll never keep a bird in a cage again.” I was with him and said, “Me neither, Totoca.”
When I got home I went straight to Pinkie. “Sweety, I’ve come to do something.”
“What?” “Can we wait a bit?” “OK.” I sat down and leaned my head against his trunk.
“What are we waiting for, Zezé?” “For a really pretty cloud to float past in the sky.”
“What for?” “I’m going to let my little bird go. Yes, I’m going to. I don’t need it any more.”
We sat there staring at the sky. “Is it that one, Pinkie?”
The cloud came drifting along slowly, really big, like a white leaf with torn edges.
“That’s the one, Pinkie.” I stood and unbuttoned my shirt. I felt it leaving my skinny chest.
“Fly away, little bird. Really high. Go way up high and perch on God’s finger.
God is going to take you to another little boy and you are going to sing beautifully for him just as you always have for me.
Bye-bye, my sweet little bird!” I felt an emptiness inside that was endless.
“Look, Zezé. It perched on the cloud’s finger.” “I see it.”
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