Vigil

"Want me to Venmo you some money for flowers?" her brother offered. "Cash App? Apple Pay? PayPal?" "Uh ... no times four," Evie responded with a chuckle. "Not needed and I don't even know what those are." "Those are staples of the 21st century," he teased her. "I'm never leaving the 90s," Evie said. "Flowers are unnecessary ... because of the birds mostly." "The what now?" he said, getting distracted. "I shall pay your respects and ring you later," she promised, releasing him from the call. At the graveyard, Evie felt a pang of guilt looking out at all of the roses and carnations and mums left and/or carefully tended; that was the normal way of things ... of memory and tributes. A screech brought her around and Evie looked ahead to her mother's stone as she walked; it was being guarded by the world's largest crow - a vigil that would be continued by any one of the birds weighing down the tree she was buried under ... maybe the little hawk or the owl would be next. "Jeeeeeeeebus," she whispered, a little nervous, but they let her pass - let her sit on the bench and marvel while they stared. Evie's mother had fed the birds her entire mortal life and now they remembered her; the grave was covered with large and small brilliant feathers, shells and polished stones, flowers and fronds, marbles and pop tabs and little bits of shiny paper pinched into origami-like shapes. "I loved her, too, guys," Evie said quietly, pulling the bag from her tote and opening the top. It was the last of her mother's "premium seed and nut mix", but she would make more.