thefeatherbeast
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Nov 5, 2005
- Messages
- 39
God of the Birds
Gary’s hair blew a bit when the breeze came to touch it and toss it around. The wind made him think of the majesty of birds and the freedom of their flight. For a moment Gary imagined he was a bird himself, but he soon realized that his potential as a human gave him all the advantage.
He scurried downstairs to go into the refrigerator meat drawer. The Meat Man had come just two days earlier, rolling up the driveway in a refrigerated van stuffed with raw meats of all kinds: burgers, steaks, and slabs, all frozen hard like clubs. Well now some were soft enough to be balled up a bit, molded to Gary’s liking. Birds, he was sure, were quite fond of meat.
So he went to work with some string and scissors from the garage and began tying meat to his body: hanging chunks from his neck, tying them to his limbs and his fingers. Gary wore a cold meat blanket.
When he emerged into the summer sun he was disappointed to find that the birds on his land preferred grubs and berries to cold raw meat. Gary sat down on the bottom step of his porch and hung his head. The birds had not beckoned. The only birds left were flying high above him.
Well, they came soon enough. By the time Gary saw the first diving down it was already upon him. Others came fast and immediately they all began pecking wildly at the meats hanging all around him. They had no regard for what was meat and what was Gary. Unable to untie himself from the meats while he was pecked and scratched by these clawing, winged animals he had no choice but to attempt to fight. The meat hung like weight on top of him, undermining his struggle to resist.
He wanted to be Gary, God of the Birds. But it would never be.
the featherbeast
Gary’s hair blew a bit when the breeze came to touch it and toss it around. The wind made him think of the majesty of birds and the freedom of their flight. For a moment Gary imagined he was a bird himself, but he soon realized that his potential as a human gave him all the advantage.
He scurried downstairs to go into the refrigerator meat drawer. The Meat Man had come just two days earlier, rolling up the driveway in a refrigerated van stuffed with raw meats of all kinds: burgers, steaks, and slabs, all frozen hard like clubs. Well now some were soft enough to be balled up a bit, molded to Gary’s liking. Birds, he was sure, were quite fond of meat.
So he went to work with some string and scissors from the garage and began tying meat to his body: hanging chunks from his neck, tying them to his limbs and his fingers. Gary wore a cold meat blanket.
When he emerged into the summer sun he was disappointed to find that the birds on his land preferred grubs and berries to cold raw meat. Gary sat down on the bottom step of his porch and hung his head. The birds had not beckoned. The only birds left were flying high above him.
Well, they came soon enough. By the time Gary saw the first diving down it was already upon him. Others came fast and immediately they all began pecking wildly at the meats hanging all around him. They had no regard for what was meat and what was Gary. Unable to untie himself from the meats while he was pecked and scratched by these clawing, winged animals he had no choice but to attempt to fight. The meat hung like weight on top of him, undermining his struggle to resist.
He wanted to be Gary, God of the Birds. But it would never be.
the featherbeast
