Little King

The water broke in circles, each smaller than the first, chasing each other until they vanished and the surface became still once more. I watched as a new circle formed just a bit further and first a beak, then a small black head pierced the liquid surface of the pond. It turned to one side and then back again only to disappear quickly underneath, leaving a trail of ripples behind.

The bird came out with a splash, its body dripping with water, and flew to a piece of wood that was sticking out in the center of the pond. It stood there small and wet and black,     beating its wings against the wind. After a while it went into the water again, only to surface a few meters from where it had started, then dived and came out a few seconds later in another part of the pond.
The day opened around like a small bud in the path of the sun. The wind caressed the tall grass at the edge of the pond making it bend slowly to the ground in a humble salute. Butterflies scattered, delicate winged creatures bearing nature’s artwork on their backs in bright shades of orange. The air was unscented and heavy with humidity.

The mighty sun started to climb in the sky and send his rays to warm the world. The little bird was swimming rapidly underwater leaving a trail of mud behind, like a comet flying through space. It flew again to its resting place and there it stood, wings outstretched in the wind. “Welcome to my kingdom!” it said. “Welcome!”
September 03, 2006

This entry was posted in Short Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Little King

  1. Esa says:

    The images are vivid and poetic.
    Light, movement and colour bring this serene Kingdom to life.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *