Love Story
By Bill Winter
Liesl was in love with her professor, but he was a man who loved birds. An expert on red-winged blackbirds, he would crouch for hours in the marshy shoreline soil with his sound recorder and his notebook, observing subjects as they flitted about the reeds, fighting and mating.
Liesl took to wearing black to class, but this went unnoticed. Her eyes, which had always been somewhat dark and hard, began to look almost beady, like oiled bearings. She would arch her back oddly at times. Walk with uneven, quick little hops. Cock her head aside.
She married her psychiatrist instead.