Sunday, 14 April 2013

Interlude II: Black Birds




The young man has dark hair, as glossy as a raven’s wing, and skin glowing like golden sand. He moves with incredible grace, under a large coat that hangs on his shoulders like a coat, and sways as he walks, so that the dark suit with embroidered lapels appears beneath.
He smiles at you as you move out of the way, making space for him to speak to the lady.
His voice is rich as he says, “I would be grateful for a tale today, Madame.”
The shopkeeper raises an eyebrow he the young man pulls from the folds of his cloak-like coat, like a treasure wrapped in silk, an ornament, and places it lightly on the counter.
It is an origami bird, made of many artful knots, with spearhead wings and a pointed head and tail.
But it is not made out of traditional paper, but a dark oxidized metal, malleable enough to have been twisted and bent.
“It’s lovely, sir,” the lady praises it, rotating around the bird to see it at several views, rather than move the apparently sacrosanct bird itself. “I can tell you quite the dream about a black bird, or several,” the shopkeeper adds, and the man smiles.
“I am much obliged,” the young man says, and waits patiently while watching the lady, clasping his hands before him.
The shopkeeper leans back, setting her hands on the counter and staring at the man pensively.
She sighs deeply before opening her mouth to begin.

Art by Brian Chan

Text by Lucie MacAulay

No comments:

Post a Comment