Here is a little random story I wrote in a short sitting to get the creative juices flowing. Enjoy!
Once upon a time, there was an owl. Not an old, wizened owl, and not a young, cute owl, but a teenage owl, and that means danger. This owl's name was Kaba, and he grew up in a dark green forest. Kaba never liked the forest, and instead wished he was raised on the cliffs by the water.
Heights intrigued him, and because of the thick canopy of the forest, could never break the ceiling and fly to the clouds. But if he lived by the cliffs he could dive of every day and enjoy what must be that wonderful sensation he could only taste from falling out of his nest.
And instead of eating mice, he wished he could eat fish! Flying over the water, stabbing a swimmer with his beak seemed to him the way to live. He wanted to be an eagle!
But eagles were to be feared in the forest, and without a covering, every animal in the forest would be eaten by the huge, mighty eagles. So kaba could not even speak of them, let alone meet one. But it is what his heart desired, and for youth, the heart's desires are always louder than the counsel of another, and more powerful than the fear of danger, or the allure of peace.
So as soon as the sun set, Kaba ventured out, for only the second time in his life,of the forest. Across the grassy fields, under the bright moonlighted he walked in silence, smart enough to keep from flying, even at the risk of snakes and foxes. He climbed the slopes and reached the top within an hour.
Dozens of nests filled with eagles and eggs lay before him. But he was not interested in meeting one, especially under the premise of a surprise in the night.
For laying before him, across the whole plateau, we're bones. Fish bones made the floor of the eagles' abode and awakened in Kaba the hunger for fish! He bounced to the cliff edge and took in what he saw. After feeling the breeze on his feathers stronger than he'd ever felt before, he beheld a great drop, far to the ground, the rocks and frothy water breaking on them.
It would take moments to reach the bottom and that realization spurred him on into a silent frenzy. Vaguely knowing what it took to dive, spread, soar and stab a fish, his youthful vigor seized him, And down he dropped.
The wind, the torrents of air that found their way past every feather to run its course across his skin slapped his body into real consciousness. Kaba was born in that fall, not physically but in just as real as way. The ground approached, but it would not ruin this second of joy, of creation. He turned his wings and curved, slowing, bending parallel to the water. The mist wet his wings and within seconds he spotted a fish, sleeping near the surface.
He speared it with his short break like he'd done it a thousand times! He flew and flew, with fish in beak, for days and days, forever. He never lived under a forest again and never ate another mouse for the rest of his days. He was alive, And happy.
THE END
