The mockingbirds overran the trees surrounding the field. They ruffled their brown feathers when the sun peeked out at them and began to sing, and then to scream. The inhabitants on the field, sleeping in their caravans and their tents roused from their dreams and shot them down with rocks and sling shots. They didn't hate the birds for screaming, they resented the birds for ruining the dreams.
A few mockingbirds stayed up in the trees and returned to singing, softly, under their breath. They didn't hate the humans for shooting them down, they hated them for ending the show.
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