by Angela Kempe

Abu opened her eyes and lazily shook off the last bit of sleep from her green feathers. Her mood was slightly melancholy as she flexed her sharp claws to grip the branch beneath her. She felt something on her mind today. Abu searched for the memory unsuccessfully. She knew it had been something important, like a beloved thing that was lost. But, its reality had faded too far from consciousness and slipped into a dimension far beyond her reach.

Morning cast a mild light on the fuscia sky. Abu watched as the sky formed dark shapes which melted and contorted before disappearing into the pink. There was a pattering that she thought might be a storm brewing behind the shadowy conformations. And every so often a large sound would thunder and rumble and the sky lost its brilliance.

Abu dipped her head remorsefully. The thing that she had lost pressed against her heart like a dull pain. Unable to remember, she fluttered towards the giant grey trees that climbed high in the sky and draped over her with a menacing strength. She perched herself on one and searched the hazy pink. A tinge of warmth on her face may have reminded her of that beloved thing, but it was too soon overcome by a cold darkness that surrounded her like a thick sticky syrup.

Suddenly, Abu gasped at a deafening rattle of thunder that rolled across the sky. She fluttered back to her favorite branch frantically and listened in horror as the sky roared, drawing strange dark lines and shapes which moved across the bright like ghostly creatures. If only she could remember that thing that was so treasured. The memory flickered in front of her. She let out a small scream as the sky became blindingly bright.

When the brightness settled around her and the images became clear, Abu stood tall on her branch. She puffed up her breast and raised her wings, stretching the long green feathers out in a giant fan. Abu remembered. She looked unflinchingly into the eyes of the great being standing in front of her. Today, she would not forget the sweet memory that dripped like honey from her soul. Freedom; It was so easily lost, but it would never be forgotten.


Author: angelakempe

A songwriter, musician, and writer

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