This was wonderful! For one day only, the flock of Darwin Swans would be flying over her hometown!
The most beautiful birds in the world, and the rarest. She pounded down the street, scattering pedestrians from her path, binoculars in hand. Twice they almost slipped from her sweaty grasp.
Wait till all the girls in the office heard about this! It was a shame she couldn’t get them more excited about ornithology- there were few enough birds left in the world as it was.
She hit the end of the pavement and galloped onward, to the scrubland and the river, moving sluggishly under its film of rainbow-hued oil. Cars honked, and people shouted, but she didn’t hear a single sound. She threw herself down into the sharp, ripping grass; the binoculars already glued to her eyes.
First a blur of empty sky, as she swept around for the first glimpse- then- Yes! There! Pure and proud, graceful and strong, great lords of the sky! Who would not rejoice to see-
BANG! B-B-B-BANG, BANG, BANG.
The lords were falling; the hunters celebrating their rare kill.
But nobody understood why the woman sat and screamed on the edge of town.
Very short: in a dying world, a last great flock is passing overhead, and one woman is determined to see it.