The swallow (a short story)

December 28, 2011
By Liberty-May GOLD, Surrey, Other
Liberty-May GOLD, Surrey, Other
11 articles 0 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
the pen is mightier than the sword, and considerably easier to write with

The swallow was resting in a hollow tree the branches splayed above him. It was mid-December and snow was resting upon the once mighty tree. The swallow looked around and hopped off, recently he thought there had been much too much disturbance for his liking, it had destroyed all hope he had had of a family, his wife Lorna had been killed within the first hour of the fighting. The unborn chicks had gone down with her; she had been so devoted even though he had urged her to leave. But he tried not to think of that. He needed to move on and as soon as it may seem he had seen just so recently how life can end so abruptly-besides Lorna would not want him to mourn. Your loved ones never do. He wondered if this was just talk or if it was really true. Would I want Lorna to be sad if it had been me who had died? Yes partly, but he would not want it to overtake her life.
The Swallow jumped on to the nearest hedge and was strolling along when along came Reverend Clinton a stout but kindly crow. “I am so sorry about your misfortune with Lorna” he waded. The swallow sighed and thanked him kindly-again does anyone really mean it kindly-could it just be words, it certainly was in his case as he was quite bored with being sorrowed with regrets about Lorna. The Reverend was now to present him with even more sorrowful news, his father Clive had passed away earlier that same day, Rev. Clinton had been sent to tell him the news and present him with his fathers will. Once he had done so he left feeling very sorry for the swallow because in his opinion just paying your respects to his wife and father was quite enough a sorrowful affair for him but goodness knows much for the swallow. The swallow though simply continued to walk on along the hedgerow until he reached a gate from which he hopped down and started pecking at poppy seeds which had been spoiled rather scattily on the ground. The swallow wondered if the fighting would start again, undoubtedly it would. Maybe he should leave this area? Yes that would get him away from all reminders of Lorna and he could once again start afresh, and with this in mind the swallow hopped over the fence and off towards the big tree once again.

The author's comments:
In this peice of writing i felt very philosofical as it has many "ponderings" of mine in it.

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