They sat together in comfortable silence, having been in each other's company for over ten years.

 

One of their favourite places was on the swing chair, overlooking the backyard, gently moving backwards and forwards, watching the branches of eucalyptus sway in the afternoon breeze. Graham had landscaped it with care, or rather, he had overseen the landscaping work after his accident, using his payout to fund the improvements. He figured he would be spending a lot more time in his own company. Why not have something nice to look at? 

 

Of course, that was before Sylvia came into his life.

 

Sylvia was particularly fond of this time of day—her soul soaring and dipping as she focused on the clouds ahead.

 

Graham enjoyed his glass of beer sitting alongside her. Sylvia didn't drink, even with his playful coaxing as she shrieked at him to stop tormenting her. 

 

That first year after the accident had been tough. Along with the loss of his freedom of movement, his friendships also dissolved, and he'd found himself passing his days, weeks, and months without any contact other than the cleaner and grocery deliveries.

 

Then one day, he'd heard a commotion—screaming coming from the front of his house. He'd limped slowly, cautiously, toward the door, and when he'd peeked outside, there she was, at the bottom of the porch steps, splayed and resplendent in white. She'd taken his breath away. He'd moved closer, and though he hadn't seen any blood, it was clear from looking into her startled eyes that she was in a bad way.

 

For the next couple of weeks, he'd made her as comfortable as he could. She hadn't been able to move much—hadn't made a sound—but occasionally, she would gently put her face to his to show she was feeling stronger. Once, she had even nuzzled his neck. He had been overcome with emotion at this unexpected display of intimacy.  

 

That's when he knew he wouldn't be able to let her go—even after she regained her strength and was back on her feet. 

 

Lost in thought, he raised his head and saw the sky had become overcast.

 

 

"Well, Sylvia, time for us to retire for the evening, don't you think?"

Graham rose to his feet slowly and carefully. "There you go, safe and sound." 

The door rattled as he closed it firmly behind her.

 

 

Sylvia cocked her head and peered at him. She stretched her white wings, made useless long ago.

Overhead, the cries of cockatoos filled the air.