About some 8 months ago, I was truly inspired and wrote about… a balloon! Yep, you heard well… a balloon. The story runs through 6 pages (longest piece of finished fiction I ever wrote) and I firmly believe that all 6 pages are dead important and all.
I’ve got really big plans for this story and I’m even thinking that it may well be the story that gets me published in one of those great literary sites (or their print versions) I love. I even have a couple of sites in my mind right now, too. But first of all, the story has to be edited. My dad already scanned it and I will have to work on structure and make some usual grammar corrections as usual. I hope that it comes out all neatly in the end though.
But for the time being, I’d like to share a tiny little piece of the story. The ending actually.
That was it, I thought. I comprehended that the Flamboyant was going to be my place for as long as I wished it to me. For as long as felt like it. For as long as I would wait before embarking in the next adventure. Before jumping into the adventure of afterlife.
I shut my senses. I thought I was ready to go. But then I wasn’t. I was still afraid and was still clinching on the thread of life. I wanted to go but I didn’t want to go nonetheless. I was still incomplete in my soul. At least I still felt incomplete.
I dreamed (whether it was a daydream, I know not). I dreamed about my friend, the man. I dreamed about the pomegranate trees. I also dreamed about Little robin. And that dream was so detailed and passionate that I thought it wasn’t a dream at all.
I saw Little robin hopping towards me, just like the first time, except that we were on the Flamboyant instead of in a muddy pond. I saw Little robin approach. It stared at me for some time and started to chat, just like last time. However, the sound it issued was more peaceful, almost reassuring. I think I smiled. Little robin came closer still. It watched me again for some seconds. Then it pecked me just like it had done. It didn’t hurt this time. It didn’t hurt because I was ready. I was ready to go. I was ready to leave. I was ready to die.
Little robin whispered something to me. I felt like I understood. Then Little robin did what it was expected to do. It saved me again. It pecked.
Update: The story is edited and even dedicated. Here’s the dedication by the way: “To those who are special to me: my family and friends, especially Zaz and Sul.” Dedication is a weird thing to do. I’ll have to write about it one day.