For nine years, Elias Penn set his pocket watch by the sparrow. At eleven o'clock sharp the little brown bird dropped onto the third spoke of the fountain, cocked its head, and stayed exactly forty seconds. But this Tuesday the square was nearly empty when it should have been full of people and pigeons. Elias stood by the fountain, watch open in his hand, and waited. Eleven o'clock came. The sparrow did not.

A boy of about ten sat alone on the far bench, swinging his legs. He was the only other person in the whole square. Elias walked over. 'You waiting for the sparrow too?' he asked. The boy looked up, surprised. 'You know about the sparrow?'

The boy's name was Sam. 'My grandpa used to bring me here every day to watch the sparrow,' he said. 'He passed away last month. I come at eleven so it feels like he's still here.' Elias sat down beside him on the bench.