A Flickering Grumble

A low hum pulsed through the dim room. My long arms twitched, snapping free from the frozen posture. I felt cold air slide across my wide beak as a deep, wet rattle bubbled up from my throat. Below the glowing display, I leaned down and tapped the sleek television stand with one elongated finger. A small plastic figurine beside the screen wobbled at my touch. I am here, awake in the shadows, listening to my own breath.