Black feather

23 3 0
                                    

I stare outside, through my opened window. Letting the cold winter air; inside my warm house. I shiver when a breeze comes by, going through my thin nightgown. I look out to the winter wonderland that has taken over my neighborhood. I can hear the laughter from the other end of the neighborhood. I can already see the children running around in the cold snow. Building snowmen, and snow angels; having snowballs fights and hitting one another. While their faces turn red from the cold air. I smile remembering my siblings and me doing the same. I stared outside. In the blanket of snow, I saw something black move. It fell right past my vision quickly. And fell at my feet; I looked at it. It was a single black feather, covered with a few snowflakes. I picked it up and looked at it in my hand. The end looked like it was cut off; instead of simply falling off, with a single drop of blood. I looked out my window, in time, to see a raven fall off my roof. Dead. Shot in the side. It's blood dripping off the body, staining the once innocent and pure white snow. Turning it pink at first, then dark red. I just stared before I went and changed to more suitable clothes an a shovel at hand. I got out and started to dig a hole, next to the dead bird, under the stain snow. I grabbed the bird, not minding the blood; and placed it gently in the hand made grave. I grabbed its feather from my pocket, after I covered it up back with the dirt and snow, and placed it over its made shift grave, placing it with some rocks that where near by to hold it above the grave. I went back inside to change once more, and wash away the blood. I looked out the window again, then I heard the small padding of feet behind me; signaling that my bird loving daughter is awake.

Black featherWhere stories live. Discover now