~ Written by Danielle N. Bilski ~
Nameless bird
Written by Danielle N. Bilski
352 words
A brown bird perched on a power line. Above it all. Free to fly in whichever direction it chooses. Lingering as long as it desires. Resting, it catches its breath; makes a call to its friends nearby. Surrounded, but alone. Belonging, yet autonomous. A slight breeze ruffles its feathers. Its stomach tightens.
From below, I look up to the bird. I imagine. Imagine stripping away the layers of clothing. My skin is warm and featherless. I climb up the wooden power pole and walk the black tightrope to join the bird. My fear of heights dissipates. I am suspended and I cannot fly. Lowering myself to straddle the wire, I look into the bird’s right eye. I imagine the bird asking me where I want to go. The words sound like the notes of a piccolo, but I understand.
‘Where shall we fly?’ it says. The white tip of its tail quivers like a candle flame.
I watch the dancing orange leaves on matchstick branches and feel an ache as the frosty wind bites my nose, my toes, twisting the base of my spine with a callous fist. A reminder: I am human and Winter is arriving by decreased degrees.
I cannot speak at a piccolo pitch. If I could, I would whisper.
‘My soul wants to fly anywhere you can take me from here, but my heart is a heavy anchor and my arms fail me. Only my mind is capable of following you, faithfully. Fly well, friend.’
Silently, I retreat back into my clothes, behind the window and my blinkered brown eyes.
Moments later, the bird flies West. I trace the air around its outstretched wings with my fingertip upon the dewed glass; a foggy silhouette. Only a black power line remains, unremarkable against a smoked, threatening sky. ‘Go back inside,’ it warns, releasing a crack of electrostatic power with transcendent force.
Drowned by rattling thunder, inaudible words draw a nameless bird on a power line and the naked woman barely balancing beside it; an irregular icon. A momentary escape from the real story, monochromatic crumbs form this storming allegory.
©2017 My Time With You