Fandom: Original Fiction
Author's Notes: For writerverse, and the prompt of "Wind."
A breeze comes along and lifts me away, up, up and aloft. Will I fall?
The grassy earth flows beneath me, flowered fields, a river of purest blue. I sink down onto the water, and drift gently with the stream. There are turtles hiding in the reeds, and fish slip between the rocks down below. They do not notice me.
It is a beautiful day, so bright and sunny. I could laze here forever, floating along, but I know there are things I should be doing. I try to lean up, but can't quite make it out of the water.Oh, what a struggle! I lean and shift, again and again, until the stream finally pushes me up against some rocks, and I can pull myself up and out.
I hope no one saw that...
I hardly have time to dry off a little and catch my breath before I get picked up and whisked away again. I move beyond fences and past herds of cattle, coming to rest next to a bright clump of flowers. They wave gently, their petals ruffling. It's peaceful here, soft and beautiful, and yet I wonder how I'm ever going to get home.
Before long, a bird hops over to me and stabs me with its beak. It hurts more than you'd think! What was that for? The bird flies off, like nothing ever happened, while I sit there and think about how strange all of this seems.
I stay there all day. I can't seem to leave, and for better or worse, the wind has lost its magic.
The night is longer and colder than I remember.
I feel so tired the next day, so stiff and creaky. The flowers around me seem less bright, and I can't muster the energy to move at all. The air is so dry and still, it just drains the life right out of me. A little rest, I think, and I'm certain I'll feel healed.
When I wake again, it is dark.
I feel no better, and the moon is absent. I couldn't see to find my way home if I had the strength. The journey must have been rougher than I thought—my spine aches, and the pain has me so twisted up I can't straighten myself out. Why did this all happen?
Curled up on the ground, I try to get comfortable. The cold seeps into me, and yet somehow, I sleep. Soon, the sun is overhead.
I hear a strange sound, nothing like any sort of bird or animal I'm familiar with. What is it?
It comes closer—closer, and then it has ahold of me, tumbling me end over end until I'm bruised and dizzy! It's very crowded here, all edges and elbows, and quite hard to breathe. Some room, please—I don't even know you!
Finally, the spinning stops. There we are, a group of filthy strangers all heaped together, each more confused than the next.
Then I feel it. Heat—such terrible heat, worse than the harshest summer sun! Everything crackles and sighs, the pain so horrible it burns right through me.
The end is a savage, orange oblivion.
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