As I sat down to write this investigative piece, a yellow hummingbird rested outside my window and began pecking away.
Tap, tap tap…
Every time I moved the keys…
Tap, tap tap…
The bird looked in at me. I stopped to acknowledge it only to see a serious look on its face. Perhaps this was a sign that someone, somewhere didn’t want me to uncover what I was about to come across.
Should I stop? No, the truth is too important.
How old is Eddie Jackson?
It’s a simple enough question, right?