About the work

The starling has been here before. Perhaps yesterday, or the day before, it snatched a piece of this same fruit and found it sweet. It returned, then, not for more of the flesh – though it would take it – but for the rind left by someone else’s passing. It does not eat the peel, no bird does, but it knows where a new one is likely to appear. It expects it. The fruit is still yellow and firm, but the edges of its stem have begun to blacken. The starling is waiting for it to be ready.