I wanted to post this one warm and raw. This week’s six-sentence story feels more like a poem, and I was afraid that if I sat with it any longer, I’d over-refine it into something it isn’t. So it’s a bit of a crossbreed... an experiment for the blog hop or something like that...
The weekly writing challenge is hosted by GirlieOnTheEdge, and you can find links to other participants’ work through the link-up.
Rules of the hop:
Write 6 sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
The link is live from Wednesday at 6:00 PM until late Saturday night.
Spread the word and support fellow writers!
PROMPT WORD: MARCH
Six-Sentence Story - Blackbird
I was touched by a chirping bird with its wings tied behind its back, and for the first time in life I could smell spring without my throat closing up.
In my delusions, I had hoped that I could catch this magnificent creature, make it drink from a cup on my windowsill, and snatch it for myself.
Who knows, perhaps I could even teach it human tongue.
However, beside its tunes, my poetry felt like humming a note I couldn’t hold without losing my breath.
Maybe I was getting increasingly bonkers, expecting a bird to talk to me, “chirp-chirp” I would go, “chirp-chirp, come in now,” but the bird wouldn’t even look at me.
And in time I learned to sit on the windowsill, watching it march away with its beak still in my chest, whispering “chirp-chirp, come in now” to something that had no desire to know me.
Links to more of my work:
If you like reading stories: Six-Sentence Stories, Short Stories, Romance and All That, Dead Poet
Or poetry : On the margins of the First Draft
and more reflections than poetry: On the Margins of the Second Draft
My band "Chaos in Spring" can be listened to on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.
You may get more satisfactory results by untying its wings… hehehe
😂😂😂😂 I never thought about it. 🧐 🧐
Sing your own song, as you DO have we your own music. Bleed a little, cleanse, and heal…
🤗🤗 thank you Liz!
quietly effective* Six!
*or engaging or… hell, kinda evocative
Yes, the bird was the one being evocative. I guess you can’t shower beautiful things with admiration and lock them up after all.
Oh and thank you so much Clark, it was very sweet of you ❤️
Beautifully written.
Thank you so much!
I’m struck by the image of a bird with its wings tied behind its back – what a curious thing to have happened, and I can’t help but wonder how. and I want to help release it from its assumed pain and inability to fly. for that reason alone, I hope you catch it…if only to set it free.
Thank you. It was meant to. Feel a bit off.
Beautiful written, but poor bird!
Thank you. I agree.
A sad little story tenderly told.
Thank you for your comment 😊
I do hope it does get free somehow. This is a touching story,
I hope so too. Thank you.
The bird did chirp for you to hear.
Perhaps… it’s finally free. And hopefully will continue to chirp because damn, it’s beautiful when it does.