This post is inspired by my boyfriend’s idea for a book. I love every bit of his idea but he only wrote a few pages. Since I love to write I thought I should post some creative writing for you today. Trying to force him to start writing I wrote this.
Meet the Swallow
It was a cold September night. I would even dare to say colder than it usually is this time of passing moon. The air was fresh; the wind brushed through my feathers making the grass, leaves and stained dirt drift away with the sound of comforting, quiet, wind humming. I stumbled a bit, still adapting to my chosen shape, my other body. Still, after all this time changing skin to feather and feather to skin, I never got used to any shape of myself. I was a stranger in each of my forms. Just like I was a stranger in every village or city I inhibited for a while. But the forest…ah yes, the forest was my sanctuary. The smell of freshly washed leaves in the earliest start of spring, or the sight of the sun kissing every plant, every peak, every flower It shunning rays could touch, I was no stranger in there.
All this daydreaming about the warm sun made my tiny body shudder. The fog started taking over the entire meadow, slowly but carefully devouring it whole. I was sitting on a firm branch, hidden away by mighty treetops. I think it was the treetops of my old friend ash tree that was keeping me safe during this New Moon evening. I wanted to ask him but, no, not tonight, all must remain quiet, for the once green, mumbling forest has taken a dark turn in its path. The bushes are trembling for there are spies crawling everywhere. Hidden in the shadows of a naive moonlight, glancing from every corner, listening, watching you as you cross paths with them.
I heard a loud crack behind me, slowly but briefly turning my beak to the same direction. A young man carrying a large bag over his shoulders. My eye never spotted such a calm heart in these late hours, heartbeat not louder than the grass moved by the wind. He was looking straight in front of him, concentrating on the way home I assumed…or maybe, he was daydreaming of a warm sun just like me. The shadows started gleaning behind him. To any human eye it would look like plain darkness, but there are many depths of darkness. There is nature’s darkness, it is rather deep blue and then there is corrupted darkness, the kind of black that eats your soul through your human, foolish, curious eyes.
My untamed mind started to pounder should I save this fine, young man from the destiny that is surely coming his way. But what is he to me really, no one but a lonely passenger and a foolish one to say the least. Walking through the woods, unarmed, and not paying any attention to all possible dangers out there. I am not that stupid to harm my destiny for someone as oblivious as this man. But then, in the moonlight I spotted something familiar, something that warmed my heart. A ring, shinning in the moonlight. It had a symbol the same symbol that the old tavern had on its roof. The same symbol that saved me this summer.
It was Emanuel. My Emanuel. His hair got scruffier, his walk more hunched. My, oh my, how did I not recognized my savior, how didn’t I felt the warmth of his heart…how can I not feel it even now. My ongoing thoughts were corrupted by the fog gathering, climbing around us. Except it wasn’t a fog, it was a wave of darkness. I opened up my wings but they were glued. Glued with a thick, sticky, blue wax clinched to them. I chirped from despair.
If you want me to encourage him some more feel free to like and comment and I will continue to write this.
(since all of the previous pictures in my posts were all mine credits for these ones go to DevianArt)
Side note: He didn’t come up with the entire big idea for the book nor the little details but I love the idea he presented to me in a nutshell.
His Word Press: https://hgc.art.blog/ show him some love please, much appreciated
I hope you liked this book to be
Lots of love, Ellodie