After she quit her job, she left the tree in her office.
The one I gave her as a wedding present.
In fairness, she did take the clock and the pitcher I gave her.
So, it wasn’t something out of spite.
Just convenience.
I could ask her. I have her address, right?
But I won’t.
I dragged the tree to the hallway.
It’s outside our office pod door.
The red birdie sits in the branches.
I squeeze it, and the batteries still work.
The shrill chirp of the cardinal rings through the hallway.
I smile, and go back to work.