Monday, May 21, 2012

Short Story - Wings

Wings

It was over. My enemy had won.

I fell from my domain and lay on the ground, breathing slowly. I could feel my mortal wound draining my life, and could do nothing but wait for the end. I could not call out to my family. My friends. Were they nearby? Had they left me for dead already?

The pain was ebbing and my eyes grew dark. I knew that death would soon take me and I resisted. This was not the way I wanted to die, overthrown by someone I had known my whole life.

I fought to stay conscious, desperate. What could be worse than dying, laying in the dirt, alone.

A shadow fell over me. My time had come. Fear stabbed my heart, when suddenly I was enveloped by warmth. I felt as if I was lifted from the ground, surrounded by smooth curtains of safety.

I took a deep breath, astounded. It was true then, what all the strange ones claimed. There was something, something at the end.

I was wrapped in comfort. I was protected from all. I was not alone. I closed my eyes, and I accepted it.


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The young girl looked sadly at the tiny bird that lay in her hands. She stroked the wing feathers, then left, taking it with her, to seek a burial place.

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