The life of a Bird

As he began measuring out the ingredients, Ned went into some sort of programmed robotic movements, having made these same cookies so many times. Finishing most of the dry ingredients, he walked to his fridge and brought out two eggs and cracked them into a bowl. The coldness of the shells and whites brought him back to reality and immediately propelled him to the sink to wash off the quickly drying goo. While scrubbing his hands, he idly glanced out the window in front of him and spotted a abird, a flycatcher to be exact. Having seen this certain kind of bird around before, Ned watched intently, hoping to catch it actually catching a fly as it flitted about. How do these things always manage to be so speedy all the time? He thought. When do they die eventually? That rapid flying has to exhaust them.

A/N: I really, really don't like this one, because it sounds extremely pathetic for the title, but it's part of the bigger picture.