The bird was just circling the sky. Just between the clouds. Just so she can see the world from above. And the hunter was aiming. He found a bird in his crosshairs.

Forests, rivers, mountains, cities. She saw everything on the way. Wherever she wanted, she rested there. Wherever she wanted to go, she flew there. She wasn't hungry, her tummy was full.

Bang!... The hunter pulled the trigger and the bird fell, its wings pressed motionless against the body. The wound was bleeding. The heart was already beating. The bird no longer felt anything.

The other birds that flew in the clouds, too, sprang up. They were frightened by the familiar sound. Only one, only one came back. He sat down at the dead body and watched it die. If he could cry, he'd cry. But he was just sitting there breathing deeply. He sat there for a day or two. He didn't move. He kept an honour-guard over the dead bird.

She was dead, but he didn't understand. She never smiles at him again, but he smiles all the time in the hope of her return. So she wouldn't know he was sad. That it's squeaking. That he misses her so much. That he can't live without her. That she was the only one who meant everything to him. That he was the only one who got remedied by her. That he just wanted to see her smile. That he just wanted to live with her. Forever.

And she's going to leave! She'll leave right here. No explanation. Amid the most beautiful period. He was looking at her. She was just lying there. She wasn't even trying to explain anything to anyone. She was just lying there. It's like she's asleep. It's like she's going to wake up at any moment and say, "It's okay, honey. I just fell asleep hard."

He wanted to shake her. Talk to her through it. Or rather, hug, sum up the hair from the forehead and whisper, "It's all right, sleep on."

But why lie to yourself? He's not here any more, and he won't be. He's not coming back. He won't get out of his deathbed.

And why are there people around here? And why are they in black? No one died here. He wanted to yell, "She's just joking, she's playing with us." Maybe he really said it out loud. But everyone cared only about their sadness. No one listened to one poor little life. Without her, he was like a loser. Invisible. Inaudible. Non-existent, actually. Yes, he didn't want to be alive. He wanted to die. He wanted to see her.

But where? Where's her "home" now? Where would she invite him for tea? Where would they watch a movie together every weekend, sitting on the sofa, holding on and eating chips? Where? Where's he supposed to go to see her? He looked again at the surrounding mourners. What do they want here, too? They look as if they ate all the pain of the world and are terribly sorry for her death. But they didn't know her at all. He knew her.

Did they know she had a freckle on her right hand?
He knew.
That she didn't eat tomato sauce because she got a rash?
He knew.
That she liked black and white films and moonlit nights?
He knew.
That she went to bed with a little teddy-bear every night?
He knew.

But what about the others? How many times have they stroked her chestnut hair? How many times have they honestly looked into her eyes? How many times did they kiss her white hand? Just like him. Like he's madly in love.

It started raining and the drops wet the feathers of the birds. They were lying next to each other and there were two of them. And there were two hearts. But only one of them was beating. It beat regularly, but sadly.

The drops were falling more and more, but the bird didn't want to get up and go hide. He was afraid to leave the other one. What if she woke up after all? He should be there. And so he lay there.
Not the cold country did get cold.
The other one would have done the same for him. She wouldn't leave him. That's why she had to stay. Even though she knew she was going to die in the cold and without food.

He started breathing hard. Cold drops caused him to get cold. He was shaking. He clung more to the other cold body and stayed that way. Then he was breathing for a while before he stopped completely. At least they stayed together.

Because they were in love.

Guests around began to enjoy the funeral feast. They talked like they forgot someone had died. He couldn't stand it. He ran out into a cold evening and cold rain. He had to go for a walk. He couldn't forget as quickly as they did because he loved her.

On his way through the forest, he watched as the footpath under his feet swayed. And then he came across two helpless bird bodies. He felt compassion. He didn't want to leave them like that. That's why he dug a hole in the ground and buried it. Side by side. So they'll still be together on their way to the other side... Always together. Just as they wanted it, just like they would have wanted it.

On his way down the bridge, he jumped into a rain-swollen river, the banks of which were connected by a bridge.