You stand in the back room of the rescue while the vet reads the new x-rays out loud. She does not soften it: more surgery will only drag out the pain, it will not give the swan its wing back. It is a young bird, maybe two years old. Right now it sits folded and quiet on the towel, watching your face, calm as still water. The vet sets down her pen and waits for you to answer.
The Swan You Carried In