The Bird in the Attic
https://www.cinnamon.video/watch?v=315488241836885203
Article Voiceover
I live in an apartment in the North West of Vienna in an “Altbau” which means old building. They are sought after because they usually come with vintage doors, parquet flooring and 3 meter high ceilings. Along with the charm and the history of an Altbau, you also get parts of the building which have not seen the light of day in decades.
I kind of live on the top floor of the building, I say kind of because there is an “Attic” in the loosest sense of the word above me. In the next twenty years or so I have no doubt they will one day turn this into a penthouse flat (hopefully I won’t be living under it when the construction works begin) but for now, it is desolate, dusty and horrible.
I need to mention that for some reason my flat came with a key to this attic. A huge prison like metal door painted white like the surrounding walls to camouflage its existence. I am not sure if I am allowed up there but I eagerly snuck in when I first moved in to take a peek.
There must be over 200m2 up there. There is a huge vintage (possibly WWII era Austrian flag) forgotten and stowed away in the rafters. There is access to the chimneys that the state come to inspect twice yearly, and there are what look like the remnants of washing lines: Perhaps back in the day this was a communal clothes drying area?
My first thoughts leaned towards building a secret man cave and expanding my meagre 75m2 below. Perhaps it could be my personal penthouse home gym? While I explored the lifeless expanse I started to cough, my lungs filled with dust. The noise of a gravelly scraping under the soles of my trainers revealed bird poo and pigeon feathers everywhere. Eurgh. I hurried out of there certain I had picked up some kind of lung disease never to return “upstairs” until yesterday.
Looking diagonally up out of my kitchen window I can see one of the windows from the attic, semi-boarded up, the darkness somehow inviting my return. With the knowledge that pigeons have most likely made a home up there, I would daydream whilst waiting for the kettle to boil or for my tea to brew, gazing up at that window. “When have I ever seen a baby Pigeon?” “Have you ever seen a baby pigeon?” Pigeons are EVERYWHERE and yet I have never seen a pigeon nest let alone a pigeon chick (a quick google reveals the word that I am looking for is “Squab” which somehow sounds like a racist insult)
On this occasion yesterday I sipped my tea whilst absentmindedly attic window watching through my rain stained window, but this time I saw something moving. A little wing ! I grabbed my phone to record the historic moment of seeing my first “Squab.” I zoomed in on the display of my phone trying to see in better detail what my eyes couldn’t, trying to make out what kind of bird it was.
The novelty of baby pigeon bird watching slowly began to wear off as the bird began hitting itself up against the window in what seemed like a desperate attempt to get through the window and out of the attic.
“Does it look in trouble?” I muttered to myself as it proceeded to frantically beat its wings against the window “…oh God.. hold on..”
I grabbed my keys, and made my way towards the metal door to the attic…
**To be continued.
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https://www.cinnamon.video/watch?v=315490078631658717
