The Bird's Wings

Right so this is another oldie to fill my days of absence.....enjoy


btw, im thinking of making a third short story having a title containing the word "bird" in it..... it would be a nice trivolumus...


anyhow, here goes nothing:

The Bird's Wings

The bird woke up caged and fright. As it tried to flap its wings it felt the cold, rusty steel of its chains carving fleshy wounds in its coulorful wings. It shrieked as it realised the sheer hopelessness of its attempts to break free.

Exhaustion took its treacherous hold of the bird and only pain kept it from falling into eternity. The bird looked up through the steel bars separating him from the outside world and and he saw them arrive.

They surrounded the cage staring at the wounded bird with curious eyes. They all struggled to get a good view of the frightened bird trying to fight its rusty warden without any luck. The spectators were noticeably calmed down by the fact that there were bars preventing them from the monstrosity in the cage.

When finally the bird was emptied and all the blood had made its way down to the cold, barren floor of the steel cage , the previously curious faces of the spectators changed and turned into the determined faces of a killer.

Suddenly the cage provided comfort. Its bars served as walls and the cage itself as a sanctuary against the hungering eyes trying to reach the bird. The feathered prisoner barely reacted when one of the spectators pulled forth a key giving it the gift of freedom, a gift he would have sacrificed everything for before his incarceration.

The cage dissolved and the bird was now exposed to the cold hands of the spectators. It embraced their warm, loving touch as it joined them in their cage, somewhat smaller that its previous one.

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