Monday, November 5, 2012

The Little Bird

Walking around, I saw a little bird. The little bird did not look up at me as I passed but I must have done something right for him to start following me. At first I did not mind, in fact I found it quite flattering. Once I decided to pick up my speed, the little bird became angry. Never looking up at me to express such emotion but I could feel his anger running through his feathers. Why would this little bird care so much to follow me? And wasn't it okay to walk at my own speed? At this thought, I came to a complete stop: If this little bird was going to be following me around, he was going to learn that I make up the rules. Turning on my heels to face the little bird, I noticed for the first time his over powering color; purple with black under tones. Where did this little bird come from? With such striking colors you would think he was one of a kind. Regaining my thoughts, I began to lecture the little bird only to have him ignore me completely. In rage, I threw my hands up and took off running. I no longer wanted this little bird following me. Even though he was beautiful, he was ugly.

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