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Saturday, April 19, 2014

Writing - Potoo

Writing - Potoo

Potoo.  Space.  Writing prompt from Rachel.




He held absolutely still.

It was their favourite game, well it was his favourite game, maybe she didn’t like it so much, but that was the way things were.

Favourite things couldn't be everyone’s favourite.

“I’m serious!  Where are you?”

His eyes flickered open, just the right one, rolled around and blinked right at her, and then shut tightly again.  He held absolutely still, it would be almost impossible for her to find him this way.  In every shape and in every form he would resemble some strange outcropping of wood, meshed perfectly against the stump he sat on.

“Flik!”

He resisted the urge to look for her again.  In this forest her voice pulled in strange directions, she could be closer than she sounded, and it would be his glowing yellow eyes that would give him away.

“Fine!” finality in her tone, again he resisted the urge to look.  But that sounded somewhat definitive.

“I guess this treat will just have to go back inside!” That was more interesting.  He opens his eyes to find her, and realizes she is right in front of him, not seeing.  Less than ten feet away, one hand outstretched filled with sliced up strawberries.

His stomach rumbles, and involuntarily he shifts from one leg to the other, an uncontrollable tic.

“There you are!” A wide face, a bright smile, and she deposits her handful of sliced strawberries onto his stump.

He shuffles forward two steps, seeming to stretch and then shakes, ruffling feathers and plumage anew.  Beak descends and he scarfs a slice without bothering to chew.
“Hurry up Flik, we jump through the wormhole in less than half an hour and you have to be back in your cage by then!”

His eyes roll comically, pretending to understand half of what she says.  But the urgency in her voice is unmistakable so he continues to eat.

With her strawberry-sticky hands, she runs a finger over his plumage, downy soft.  He ignores her for a moment, picking out the choicest pieces while she ‘pets’ him.  It’s a strange bond they have, girl and….bird.  Hurtling through space on an Ark ship, eating slices of strawberries while stars fade by.

Finally he finishes, she extends a hand and he hops up.

“Let’s go Flik, who knows what’s on the other side!”

But he’s already asleep again, shock still on two legs, for all the world just like a piece of stick.

A girl and her pet bird.


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