Jon slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was crashing into the sails of a ship during the pull up from a 'death dive'. The sailors had placed some bread crumbs and water in his cage. Wait, 'CAGE'?...
The sailors weren't so bad, after all. They would let him out of the cage every evening, and watch him fly. If he did well, he would get a 'reward' from the day's catch. Try a 'death dive', and he wouldn't get much, to drive home the point that though exhilerating, the sailors did not appreciate the possibility of either losing their only source of entertainment, or having to stitch another patch in the sails. He needed some time to understand these dynamics, but understand he did...
He returned every day to eat, rest and sleep in the cage. The death dive was now a distant memory, he knew it won't fetch him good, easy fish. He did not fly out into the thunderstorms. They wouldn't allow him to, even if he wished. 'The little joys of life' now seemed more clearer, nearer. Getting wool in the cage, being named the official mascot of the ship were suddenly so important to the same bird who had foregone a thousand meals for the love of flying. Flying was just another activity in life now. Not life itself...
Jonathan opened his eyes. He felt a sudden pain. He realized he didn't care if he died in the thunderstorm, or while doing a death dive, or just sitting on the deck of the ship. What he cared for was to "live" in all these places, to "live" the moments that he wanted to. A sailor's life was good, yes, but he did not want to live anything else than his own life.
He did not return from his evening flight that day.
1 comments:
When will you stop returning to your cage ?
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