There was Morris again. He was a bird. He always sang for us when we came to a new house. He would sing with the name of the area. After, he had sang for us two times, I named him Morris. Morris always welcomed us into good houses.

As a young boy,stoning animals was my thing. So, I stoned Morris. I think I hit him but he managed to get away alive.

It had been two months since I saw Morris, of course, I didn't find it wierd till we got to a new house and there was no song for us. We joked about it when we got into the house. I walked around the house and  got to my room and found a huge hole in my wall. That was the first time I had seen such. I told my dad and he got a carpenter to cover it up with planks.

By 8pm, we had finished arranging our things in the house and we all went to bed tired. When we woke up, it was past 12pm. We took our lunch and I went out to play since I couldn't go to school by that time. That was wierd. We had never slept till that late after moving to a new house. Still, I ignored it.

Later that evening after we had our dinner and I got to my room, I found that my favourite Micheal Jackson jacket had gone missing. I remembered hanging it on my reading chair the day before. I searched my room before alerting my parents that it was missing. We searched and searched but, we couldn't find it. I was pained.

The next day, my mother's favourite bag got missing. She shouted at me that I must have taken it since I lost my favourite jacket. But, I did not take it. Next was my father's native fan which he loved so much.

The whole house was in a state of confusion. We knew no one had entered our house since we moved here. We always locked out doors before going to bed. So, what could be happening? We all sat in the sitting room when my father sighed and said;

"All this never happened in our old houses. What could be different?"

"What could be different?" I asked myself. "There was no welcome song. There was no Morris. Was Morris a  good luck charm?"

Two days later and Morris flew to a tree nearby, singing with the words;

               Four days ago
               A boy with a bucket.
               Came in while you slept
               And took a jacket

              Three days ago
              A woman going to the market
              Came in while you cleaned
              And took a handbag

              Two days ago
              A man who was sweating
              Came in while you cooked
              And took fan.

After singing, Morris flew away to another tree faraway, never to be seen again.

Moral Lesson; Do Not Bite The Hand That Feeds You