The Bird Who Looked Back

February 12, 2012
By A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
16 articles 2 photos 62 comments

Favorite Quote:
The Muse of Poetry should not know that roses in manure grow. ~The Formula, Langston Hughes
You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted ties. You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dirt, I rise. ~Still I Rise, Maya Angelou


The tall buildings in the apartment complex glinted in the bright morning sunlight, occasionally sparkling as residents pulled back their curtains to welcome in the new day. One building in the complex surrounded a luscious and flourishing park. At this hour, only a few birdwatchers occupied the park. Other than them, it was empty; except for the birds, of course. At a thickly canopied tree at the end of the park, a Mama bird and her son urgently hopped around.

"Hurry!" urged Mama Bird, flapping her navy blue wings in distress. "You should have been out of here by now!".

"What's the hurry, ma?" inquired her son, brushing his sapphire blue wings as slow as he possibly could.

"You should've left a long time ago! What's the hurry? The hurry is that your younger siblings are coming back from their flying lessons soon, and tomorrow, they'll leave the nest! You've been here far too long. Your flying lesson was 2 days ago!" exclaimed Mama Bird.
She snatched the blunt stick out of her son's beak and quickly ran it through his feathers. "There!" she tweeted, satisfied. "You're ready now! It's time for you leave. Go!".
Mama Bird pushed him, and the son was falling.

Sullenly, the sapphire bird rose, soaring over the calm environment. As he flew, he was overcome with a desperate need for a last glance at his first, and, he was sure, his only home. He swung his richly colored body in a wide arc, flying backwards. He stared at his home and remembered his first glimpse of the green park, and the first meal he ever ate, and the trepidation he had felt before his first flying lesson. He watched Mama Bird hurriedly clean up the nest, pending the arrival of her little ones. The sapphire bird felt a sudden pang of sadness; he was no longer wanted.

Suddenly, the sapphire bird realized Mama Bird was no longer cleaning. She was frantically tweeting and flying in low circles, in a state of panic. Mama Bird's son felt a warmth spread throughout his body. He was wanted! Bursting with happiness, he performed a graceful back flip in the air. Shock overwhelmed him as he realized a concrete wall approaching him with terrifying speed. He heard a sickening thud and felt the devastatingly painful reverberation shake his body. As he fell, the sapphire bird saw his younger siblings arrive home.



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This article has 4 comments.


A_Journey GOLD said...
on May. 29 2012 at 3:43 pm
A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
16 articles 2 photos 62 comments

Favorite Quote:
The Muse of Poetry should not know that roses in manure grow. ~The Formula, Langston Hughes
You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted ties. You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dirt, I rise. ~Still I Rise, Maya Angelou

Thank you! That sounds so sad! Poor birds... I will :)

and i don't mind advertising....there's not many other ways to get people to see your story :)


on May. 29 2012 at 10:08 am
DreamingOutQuiet SILVER, Round Rock, Texas
7 articles 0 photos 80 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Time and the bell have buried the day,
The black cloud carries the sun away" - Elliot

Oh if life where made of moments, even now and then a bad one. Oh, if life where made of moments then we wouldn't know we had one. - Into the Woods

This is very wellwritten. Im always finding poor baby birds broken on the sidewalk and wondering about their stories. I hate to advertise desperately but somebody please check out my story Snapdragons.

A_Journey GOLD said...
on May. 4 2012 at 6:39 pm
A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
16 articles 2 photos 62 comments

Favorite Quote:
The Muse of Poetry should not know that roses in manure grow. ~The Formula, Langston Hughes
You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted ties. You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dirt, I rise. ~Still I Rise, Maya Angelou

Thank you! I'm a very happy person, but I just can't write a happy story1! :)

on Mar. 1 2012 at 6:05 pm
Lovely_purpleroses BRONZE, Landisville, Pennsylvania
4 articles 0 photos 2 comments
Very nice!! And a bit sad. But lovely.


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