November 16, 2011 § 2 Comments

He handed her a beautiful
feather pulled out from his
tail. A tall black feather, from
his own blackness. And told her
to take it home with her.

‘Was that all he could spare
for me?’, she thinks. One
feather? However beautiful it
may be.
His tail and wings are ragged.
Maybe he moves around the
place leaving a trail of
feathers, everywhere. An
ash of his personality, his

Yet, she keeps it. It’s
her prized possession. He gave
her SOMEthing, however black
and however readily available for
everyone. She wouldn’t part
with it. Ever.

Until one day, she sees the
same kind in another woman’s
room. She burnt ‘her’ feather,
and never came back to life.


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