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Mom's Birthday (Autumn's Perspective)

7:00 AM - The Enigmatic Rooster

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Waking up to the sound of a rooster crowing was not what I had expected for the day. We lived in the third-most populous city in Europe. Aside from the farm we had visited yesterday—50 miles away—there were no farms nearby. Yet, there it was: a rooster, somewhere in the neighborhood, announcing the morning as if perched atop a barn roof rather than what I could only presume was the shell of an abandoned car.

I sat up in bed, listening to its insistent calls. I had to admit, it intrigued me—not just the mystery of how it got here, but how its voice carried, so determined and purposeful. Roosters didn’t just make noise for fun. They had jobs. They woke people up and kept routines on track. I respected that.

From the next room, I heard my brother groaning and cursing. “Are you kidding me?! Who in their right mind would bring a demon bird out of hell and into the middle of London?” he yelled, punctuated by the sound of a pillow hitting the wall. Sydney clearly didn’t share my admiration for roosters.
“Maybe it’s a sign—a new day, a fresh start,” I called through the wall, mostly just to annoy him. As his big sister, it was practically my duty.
“It’s a sign that someone’s lost their mind, that’s what it is,” he grumbled back.

Cookie’s room was silent. She was probably still asleep. It was early, and sleeping through chaos seemed to be her superpower.

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