It all began when someone left the window open. Who, that might have been is impossible to say since the house had been vacant for four years. It could have been a hurried squatter, a wayward teen, or perhaps it was open the entire time and it was only a matter of time. Regardless, the third floor only consisted of one room, which, despite the lack of life, always stayed as if it were just freshly cleaned. There was one other thing to wonder about this room was the wallpaper. Its symmetrical pattern is broken, there is a piece missing. That broken piece just so happened to had felt the fresh winter draft and flew out the window.
The lone dove had taken its newfound strength and torn itself from the stagnant existence, glued to the wall. Once it had flown from the wallpaper and out into the brisk oxygen its snow, paper white feathers were replaced with ones black as coal. Its wings flapped in the steady chill. Small puffs of charcoal clouded the air around it as it took its first flight. Off the raven flew, away from the open window and into the air, towards the city.
YOU ARE READING
You Have What They Need
Short Story~Based on "The Third Floor Bedroom" in The Mysteries of Harris Burdick~ There is no greater value than a life, perhaps it is the only true equality that will ever be witnessed. We are all so different and unrelated but would not be payed a greater...
