the quail eggs were broken on the tiled floor of the kitchen. sure, they werent fertilized so no life was lost. however, today’s breakfast was to be skipped…what a shame, i suppose? i dont really know what else to say about them. i guess i could clean up the floor instead of making breakfast. so i dont really lose any time, i can get to work on time, not that anyone would notice :(
wind
The young woman laid bloodied and alone in the barn, left for dead by her attackers. She was not dead, but felt close to it. She wanted to move, to lift her head from the hay, but she could not summon the will to. She began to try to pull herself into a sitting position, but her body ached too terribly from what they had done to her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something small and brown land next to her, and she took a breath and turned her head a fraction of an inch to be able to see it. It was a quail, a sweet curious bird like the ones her mother had kept when she was small. Tears filled her eyes at the memory, but she blinked them away and reached a shaky hand out to stroke the creature’s feathers.
“Hello, friend,” she said at last, her voice hoarse.
Annie
There once was a blue quail who believed himself to be the highest king of the land. None dared to challenge his beauty, and as such, he remained at the top– but never understood the reason why. Every time his mirror showed his visage, he smiled, but was lonely. What kind of bird flies without a flock, without a mate to live for, without a single presence akin to his that he could appreciate besides his own? But, of course, the quail could not find an answer for these questions either, for he could not understand the meaning of true company: To relish in the warmth of animals that were different, and to be favored in turn. No wonder the poor quail was alone; he scorned the earth and its creatures, so they too, scorned him for the ugliness that laid within his wasted elegance.
the quail eggs were broken on the tiled floor of the kitchen. sure, they werent fertilized so no life was lost. however, today’s breakfast was to be skipped…what a shame, i suppose? i dont really know what else to say about them. i guess i could clean up the floor instead of making breakfast. so i dont really lose any time, i can get to work on time, not that anyone would notice :(
The young woman laid bloodied and alone in the barn, left for dead by her attackers. She was not dead, but felt close to it. She wanted to move, to lift her head from the hay, but she could not summon the will to. She began to try to pull herself into a sitting position, but her body ached too terribly from what they had done to her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something small and brown land next to her, and she took a breath and turned her head a fraction of an inch to be able to see it. It was a quail, a sweet curious bird like the ones her mother had kept when she was small. Tears filled her eyes at the memory, but she blinked them away and reached a shaky hand out to stroke the creature’s feathers.
“Hello, friend,” she said at last, her voice hoarse.
There once was a blue quail who believed himself to be the highest king of the land. None dared to challenge his beauty, and as such, he remained at the top– but never understood the reason why. Every time his mirror showed his visage, he smiled, but was lonely. What kind of bird flies without a flock, without a mate to live for, without a single presence akin to his that he could appreciate besides his own? But, of course, the quail could not find an answer for these questions either, for he could not understand the meaning of true company: To relish in the warmth of animals that were different, and to be favored in turn. No wonder the poor quail was alone; he scorned the earth and its creatures, so they too, scorned him for the ugliness that laid within his wasted elegance.