The clock struck ten in the morning, then eleven, then noon, and still I could not manage it. I was not feeling well at all. The room remained dark, the curtains drawn as always to keep the living room cool and shadowed.
Tamblin and Sorya had silently gone somewhere to find hidden ancient books, in search of manuscripts with mysterious hints and clues. They had heard my moans and complaints, and definitely agreed this was not a day to push me up. But then I heard it.
A strange sound coming from the glass door by the living room. A soft but persistent hammering.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
It did not stop.
At first I thought it must be upstairs. Perhaps somebody fixing something in the apartment above mine. But no — the sound was too close. It sounded as though it were coming from inside the living room itself.
Again: Clack, clack.
Then several together.
I finally forced myself out of bed and slowly walked toward the living room. I approached the curtains carefully, opening only a narrow crack at first. I did not know what I expected to see, but the sound had become unsettling enough that caution seemed reasonable.
At first, I saw nothing. Then the clack came again. I looked downward.
Standing on the floor outside the glass door, staring directly at me, were three pigeons — apparently one representative from each species that frequents my terrace. The little Common Ground Dove. The Mourning Dove. The Eurasian Collared Dove.
One of them lifted its beak and delivered another deliberate: Clack.
Behind them, near the half-open screen door, several sparrows waited and watched silently, as though observing delicate diplomatic negotiations.
I looked at them. They looked at me.
And without a single spoken word, the message came across perfectly clearly.
“Woman, are you planning to feed us today or not? We have entrusted you with our welfare, and now you suddenly decide to abandon your responsibilities.”
I stood there looking at the delegation assembled before my living room door, and I felt deeply ashamed.
Apparently, in this house, sleeping past noon without authorization is no longer permitted.