Deep inside the parrot was an old soul. Tired, war-torn, weather-beaten, and fed up. So this go round it asked to be something simple. It is a common misunderstanding that souls have a sex. In previous lives, she had been a he many times, as well as a she. The universe did not differentiate on that matter; there were other, more important things to worry about. Let whatever place the soul lands, decide the differentiation. The more advanced, the less it mattered.

The soul resided in the parrot happily for a number of years. Riding on the girl’s shoulder, getting lots of attention from the neighborhood children and the occasional shower slash bath. Paco followed the girl around the house, in the yard, and often down the sidewalk. Content at last for some peace and quiet. Nothing to worry about, no important decisions to make; for once being taken care of instead of being the caregiver.

“Paco, you know I love you,” she said, stroking her head. Paco bobbed up and down frantically for a moment. The girl turned and walked out of the room. Inside, the soul let out a wail of anguish. Paco just remained perfectly still; staring at the door.

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