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The bird is a jet.
He traveled the world in sixty seconds.
The pleasant smell of decapitated fish rises above the market and he hears a train call.
Etu savors the air and feels the wind beneath his wings as they hover above his head.
The wings like the flavor of the wind.
Etu always wakes up to the sounds of the market.
He can’t fly fast.
Swoosh! The train completes a bypass.
A juggler rides a unicycle.
Etu considers the wind his guidance of direction.
The sun can’t be his guidance because now you see it, now you don’t.
The feeble bird dived threw the air with the courage of his eagle brethrens.
Dark clouds begin to mutate in the sky bringing a challenging thrill for Etu.
He makes a right and flies straight threw the hole of the juggling balls.
Cry begins to fall from the sky.
Etu knows the thunder starts soon.
The first drops of rain burnt his skin.
The sky cries harder now.
A mas honor, mas dolor. (The more danger, the more honor)
The clouds laugh in the arcade sky of lighting.
As the lighting flashes it leaves the birds shadow behind.





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