Trying a new form..
Convinced by a book that the world was ending, expecting any day
to be blasted to bits by a hurtling meteorite- she never thought
of surviving- the girl stopped cleaning the cage that the little bird lived in
so that the white-and-green guano built up high towers. She filled
the food and water once, at the start of the story, but the pressure built
along with plot and by the time the great stone landed she was
slashed by daily whippings that blighted her buttocks and went
unnoticed by the world, covered as they were by coarse shorts.
After the first shock of impact, when the paycheck cleared, the sores
healed, and groceries were bought, the sky fell, then blanked. She saw
at once that the drinking trough was dry and lined with cuttlefish bone
dust shaved from the beak grinder. The dish was full of seed-husks,
and those beautiful green feathers she hung her little flying dreams on,
were still on the floor and fetid with muck.