A Little Indemnity

I dreamed that I was digging through the attic storage. It was chilly from the combination of Spring and less than efficient insulation.
I discovered birds had gotten in somehow. As I attempted to shoo them out, one was killed. It was a jay, I think. Or my version of one. I felt terrible, as I crouched to pick up its limp form from between a stack of cardboard boxes. It looked unnatural laying on it's back, when I scooped it up, it's little head hung limp. Its soft, sleek, gray-blue top feathers rested on my palms as I cradled it in my hands. With its wings splayed open, I could see the yellow and brown hues of its down like feathers from its underside. I studied the body for a possible cause of demise, while gently stroking its little head with my thumb. It was a pretty little bird. I felt like an asshole for causing its death.

I set the bird down, and sneezed from the dust in the air. Then I  realized: to the left was a nest in the very box I had been looking for. It had three eggs in it. They were gray-blue as the feathers of their mother, with yellow and brown flecks all over.  I quickly tested their temperature with my finger: cool on top, warm on the bottom. I scooped them up and, cupping them in my hands, I slowly huffed warm air on them. I said to myself that I would do my best to finish the bird's job. I put the eggs back in their nest and took the box with nest and all, downstairs.