An Avian World

Fey was on Christine’s shoulder again, in the morning of July 4, 2119. There was a quiet lake nearby, where they watched crows, ducks and gulls together, all of them more social than eagles, of Falconiformes, Fey’s order. It was a bit chilly, unusual, cold air awakening. A few clouds in the sky, dressed in orange, hinted at a variable weather later in the day. Deep in the woods came a few wolf cries, as if knowing what the future may hold. They were going to the Moon. Christine turned to Fey, “You don’t want a civilization of your own?” “I prefer a family,” Fey replied, while observing carefully how two crows were mating in the sky, coordinating a beautiful dance in a vertical drop.

“I like that,” added Fey, “the way two crows fall in love and become one.”

Christine thought for a moment and answered, “You have to choose between freedom and love.”

“Why?” Unpleasant, Fey responded, “Don’t they have both?”

“It’s too late. I can’t change the past for you, but I will always be with you. Don’t you think crows can have their own civilization one day?”

There was a brief silence. Fey was in a deep thought, trying to fathom how a nation of hunters could function as an advanced society.

“It is a possibility,” she replied.

“If you can get along with me, you can get along with them. It’s pretty good to live with your children, watching them grow up, marry and lead a happy life, no?” Christine pushed a bit, encouraging.

“If you keep on asking these questions, I am going to leave you. Seriously, I am doing you a favor because you don’t have to stay single forever for me.” While saying this, Fey stayed on Christine’s shoulder, not seeming to move at all.

Christine pricked her, “I suppose you enjoy being my pet?”

Fey burst to laughs, saying, “This is not the first time you say this. You can’t even get along with your Christish society. You need to get a life!”

Deep down, Christine was bleeding with Fey. She made up her mind: “You will have your own civilization and we will be the best allies.”

“That’s not exactly exciting for me, but if that makes you feel better, I am okay with it. I will give you the genome for the new civilization, in case you regret it again.” Fey was looking into the sky, where crows danced, which seemed more variable than ever. “You don’t make up for a mistake by making a greater mistake, do you?”

“Unless you have a better solution…” Christine appeared calmer than ever, this time truly determined.

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About Run Song

Run Song (宋闰) is my pen name for the Moments of Poetry, a collection of poems about the greatest moments of life. If photography captures the greatest moments of life, poetry is the life behind them.
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