The storm is gone but the freeze remains. I was one with the sky and I am now part of the snow. Bright white clouds my eyes. My shattered wings cling to my body. Jagged cold talons pierce between my feathers. But my heart still beats. Tiny newhatch wings pound in my chest.
The hands find me. They engulf me in a warm darkness. They shudder against the freeze.
Softer than feathers? No. Tiny fibers scratch and dig into me. But the warm is welcome. It brings memories of Mother from winters before. It brings the feel of down woven into nests. My hatchling heart calms its fluttering.
scrtch scrtch scrtch
Snow sounds. Earth and snow. Like a fox digging for burrows. Why?
The hands remove the dark. The warm disappears with it. Under me is the earth. Only a patch of dirt sunken into the snow.
The hands have made this earth hole. They dug into the white to find the brown. Why? Why?
My heart renews its pounding.
The hands fall away. Crack. The earth is colder than the frozen lake. Scratch scratch. The hands fill with snow. Skshrrrrrr. The snow falls and engulfs me. Icy needles stab. Stab. Stab.
But yet my blood flows hot.
I was once one with the sky. I fell to earth. The hands that saved me are making me part of it. My newhatch heart batters my chest to crack escape the cold why can't you feel my heart still beating
Crack.
About the Creator
Em E. Lee
Writer-of-all-trades and self-appointed "professional" nerd with an infinite supply of story ideas and not nearly enough time to write them down. Lover of all media, especially fiction and literature. Proud advocate of the short story.
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