I sat there.  I looked at the radio.  The radio was broken.
Mary-Ann looked at me.  Mary-Ann is six years old.  I was
looking after Mary-Ann.
'I'm bored,'  she said.
I looked at her.
She had black hair.
'Put the radio on,'  she said.
I looked at the radio.
'The radio's broken,'  I said.
'Fix it,'  she said.
I stood up.  I walked over to a cupboard.  Inside the
cupboard there were crayons and bits of paper.
There were different coloured crayons.
I walked over to Mary-Ann and gave her the crayons.  I gave
her some paper.
She looked at me.
'Draw a picture,'  I said.
Mary-Ann took the paper and the crayons.  She laid the paper
on the floor.  She picked up a yellow crayon.
She began to draw with a yellow crayon.
I sat back down.
It was very quiet.  I looked at the radio. 
Then I heard the sound of scratching.
I looked up.
The scratching stopped.
Mary-Ann was still drawing.  She knelt on the floor.  I
watched her draw.
I heard the scratching again.
I looked around the room.
Light came in through the window.  The scratching stopped.
'What's that noise?'  I said.
Mary-Ann didn't look up.  She kept on drawing.
The scratching came again.  Something was scratching at the
door.  Then it stopped.
I stood up.  Walked over to the door and opened it.
I looked down at the step.
A sparrow lay on the step.  The sparrow was dead.  Its neck
was bent backwards.
I looked at the sparrow.
'Finished,'  Mary-Ann said.
I turned around.
Mary-Ann was still kneeling on the floor.  I went over.  She
handed me the picture.
I looked at the picture.
There were yellow lines.  Black lines.  Red lines.  The
yellow lines made the sun.  The black line was the ground.  The red
line made a man.
I looked at the red man.
'Who's that?'  I said.
Mary-Ann shrugged.
'No one,'  she said.
I nodded.
I walked back over to the door.
The sparrow was on the step.  I looked at the sparrow.
I bent down and used the picture to pick the sparrow up.  I
held it in my hand.  The dead bird was in the picture.
I closed the door and walked back in.
Mary-Ann was drawing another picture.
She looked at me.
'What's that?'  she said.
'Nothing,'  I said.
Mary-Ann shrugged.  She kept drawing.  I looked at her black
hair.
I carried the dead bird to the toilet.  I flushed the sparrow
and the picture down the toilet.  I watched.  They disappeared.
I sat back down.  Mary-Ann kept drawing with the coloured
crayons.
She was learning. 
It was easy.
I waited for her to finish the next picture.

About Duncan White