OrnithomancyMiriam Bird Greenberg
Up from the tall grass by the shell of the old motor home, flew twelve quail. On our notepads we charted their arcs. One flying off to the left means sorrow, but what if from our angle we saw left when it had really flown straight up, spiraling to the sky’s ceiling, which would mean transcendence? The children had had enough of this augury. When can we get to haruspicy? What about hieroscopia, a mean one asked. Personally, I favor sideromancy, burning straw on a hot iron, or geloscopy, interpretation of laughter, but a thorough investigation is necessary. If it means sorrow, it’s about your life, the mean one whispered and one of the small children crumpled into tears. How quickly we were learning that divination was a science which could be relied upon.
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