An Opening (‘And With No Questions Left Unanswered’).

The carrier-pigeon waited at the window, peering into the gloom beyond the glass. Somewhere in the shadows of the room, nothing stirred; all was quiet. The breezeless summer air sat heavily on his feathers, so he ducked his head into the shade and left the sun to warm his back as he waited on the ledge. He remained only lazily aware of the movements of the few other pigeons and some scavenging sparrows that flew listlessly through the square. Still fewer came and went through open windows on errands—today, even the humans, usually so busy, with so much to say, seemed languid and idle. Yet there was an energy somewhere. Even as he dozed, the carrier-pigeon felt a buzz about his head and thought, dreamily, this day there is a tension in the sky. What significance this tension might hold was, he knew, a thing beyond his reckoning, so, with no questions left unanswered and his sense of familiar peace undisturbed, he slept, quietly waiting.

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