It was just him and the parrot.
He watched her green feathers and black beak as she swayed from side to side on her perch.
"Say something else. Stupid bird."
"Stupid bird!" the parrot mocked.
He scratched his head, shifted in his seat, and typed.
I’ve missed you. I wish you would have stuck around. Guess that’s life? You wouldn’t believe how bad I look. I’m bald. I wear bifocals. I have a beer gut. Can you believe it? I don’t think you’d fall for me now. Not sure why you ever did.
"Shut up!" he shouted. The parrot watched, eyes set against her blue and yellow forehead.
"Stupid bird! EEAARRK!"
He raised his eyebrows in annoyance. He had gotten Ofelia as a gift when he moved to Bolivia ten years ago. Locals told him parrots lived up to one hundred years. Maybe Ofelia would outlive him, they would joke.
He continued to write.
Listen to me. I never meant the nasty things I said. My anger needed someone to blame. Sometimes I walk along the river like we used to and I remember your freckled face. Depending how the light hits, I see you in the water, a naked mermaid seducing me. You still torment my mind that way.
I always knew you were better. It’s why I worked hard to tear you down. I never thought you’d leave me though... but you did. Not one call all these years? Just that tacky postcard wedding announcement? And you left me with the parrot. Janie, you must have known she’d drive me nuts. She’s a parasite.
Congratulations on your wedding. You deserve the last laugh.
He took out the revolver from the drawer and pulled the trigger.