I nudge my baby brother closer to the edge of the cliff. Waves smash. “Pretty!” Noah says, and pinwheels his pudgy hands.
“Hands out,” I command, and give him the greasy newspaper. The haddock makes my mouth water. The biggest seagull gets to the top of its cartwheel and then swoops towards us. Three of its friends follow.
“Birdies?” Noah asks.
When the biggest seagull grabs his arm I take a step back. I look away. I cover my ears.
He ran too fast, I’ll tell my mom, sobbing. He ran too fast and I couldn’t catch him in time.
© Sage Tyrtle
Sage Tyrtle is a storyteller whose stories have been featured on NPR, CBC, and PBS. She is a Moth GrandSLAM winner. When she was five she wanted to be a princess until her dad explained that princesses live in a dystopian patriarchy, so she switched to being a writer instead.
Twitter: @sagetyrtle
