* * *
Her bright eyes followed the small bird's graceful movements until it alighted royally atop the lamppost. She looked wistfully at the beauty's little wings and sighed. She wondered, Do birds ever grow tired of being birds?
She struggled with getting up, her legs grown asleep. Does everyone feel this way sometimes? She glanced at her watch and plodded down the street away from the rusty park swings, downhearted yet somehow peaceful. Can I be free? Like the birds? Her legs took her to the street next to hers. She felt her hand waving at neighbors, and her pink lips lifting to return a smile to grinning children running through the sprinkler, but she did not feel the emotion that usually accompanies the actions.
Eyes wandered, feet stubbornly continuing in a straight line. Do birds ever feel like this? Her eyes met tree, house, and creature mechanically without seeing it. Does anyone notice? Does anyone care? She almost felt impatient, but she had no reason. It confused her, but she didn't even acknowledge her own bewilderment in her state of indifference.
But that was about to change.
* * *
to be continued! cool
