Page 9 - WordSmyth VI Summer 2020

A Bird’s Eye View
I gazed out upon a square of stone, scrutinising the occasional ant-like figures that rushed by below. Their numbers had dwindled in the past few days, the previously seething hub of commotion and unrest settling down into an eerie silence, save for the tapping of a few feet on the uneven paving far beneath me. I shifted my footing on my perch, focusing on the figures that did dare to venture out. They rushed by, as if pursued by invisible bees that swarmed behind them, lending haste and a barely noticeable tremor to their feet. The silence seeped back into the square as the last figure hurried on, crushing any sound that dared to emerge from the buildings and streets.
A drop of rain plummeted from the sky and I shuffled backwards, into a nearby alcove, seeking refuge from the sudden surge of water, dropping in tears from the darkening sky. As the rain pattered all around me, several tubes of plastic being carried by those below erupted, expanding into a wide canopy that shielded their forms from the water, even as they moved on. With this new enemy dissuading others from venturing out into the air, I stared around at the houses and shops that lined this abandoned square. Pale faces peered out from behind windows that were swiftly blocked by curtains that surged across, blocking my inquisitive glance.
At last, sunlight began to push its way through the clouds, parting shrouds of water vapour that hung mist-like in the sky. The rain began to dissipate, retreating into the cracks in the pavement below and flowing along the mud-caked gutters. The square returned to its original stillness, with all the humans trapped in their houses of brick and glass. I inched my way out of the alcove, talons clacking against the stone, adding an irregular rhythm to the steady drip of rain from the overfull gutters. I spread out my wings, feathers rustling in the light breeze, and took flight.
By Paul Cooley
WordSmyth VI Summer 2020
9|Page