Four dead birds

Friday Flash knock knock! This week:

Four dead birds

It was raining when he got there. The cab left him on a nameless boulevard and dashed down the street in an explosion of colors. He raised the collar of his coat not really to protect himself from the rain but from the anonymity and insecurity this city greeted him with. It was too ordinary with its tall glass buildings, shiny showcases, fast food chains, busy streets with ill manners and people running, always running to find shelter from some storm. A few people crashed into him. He breathed in their perfumes mixed with sweat. This was by far the worst smell he had come across.

He frowned. Nothing about this place impressed him. It was boring and too normal in an oddly weird way. Seemed like a waste of time to walk its rain soaked sidewalks. His search wasn’t probably going to end here. How could it? This was a lonely, dirty, smoked, concrete fake of a life. He felt disappointed. It even disgusted him.

His mind trailed off in past events as he continued to make his way between the heavy raindrops.

The silver calm waters of  the beautiful river Kawthar and light wood docks of  the city of tomorrow Tumiba with its glimmering V- shaped scrapers in the distance were days behind him; the misty streets of Mugla crawling in pale blue and ghostly green colors beside low buildings made of long and rusty iron scraps had waved their goodbyes to him when the mechanized horses of the masked police screamed their disturbing out of tune cries and the stitched from cars and trucks planes above roared their engines flying in circles, stealing the air in an ugly danse macabre; the rich golden sands of Southern Ikara had left him disorientated for hours until he reached the city of Ikarades with its towers of clay and talked a nomad with his bright red balloon to take him away to the next Illusory city.

His feet had traveled through dead cities and future cities, ancient cities and newly born ones. Five years had passed since he was banished from his home, his kingdom and was left to stray like an abandoned dog without directions or signs.

Frustration started to grow in him tightening his chest. It appeared that this was just the midst of his traveling and the persuaded culmination was far from reach. He clenched his teeth.  If this was a test to prove him worthy he wasn’t planning on failing it.

He turned to wave for a new cab when a slight change in the atmosphere alerted him that something was happening. He felt his stomach turn and thought he was going to vomit. Icy cold fingers pressed hard against his temples. Conversations, music, car honks got louder and louder before colliding with the fluorescent colors of the street lights that beamed brighter through the eye of the falling mercilessly rain. The smell of dust, tacos and old cologne slapped him through the face. He had to put some effort to keep himself from not falling.

This was the most violent Passing he had experienced.

He noticed the rain had stopped.

The street ahead was resting in the warm kiss of a setting sun. When he looked back to where he was just standing it was still pouring like mad and the sky was becoming a darker gray.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Not so ordinary after all“

He proceeded.

As he walked the buildings started to alter, some silently sinking into their foundations others shrinking inwards like they were sucked by invisible black holes but as they fell or disappeared, their glass eyes never stopped following his steps.

From some crumbling shop a flayer fell and landed before his boots. He picked it up.


He crushed the paper in his fist. Someone was mocking his presence here. He quickened his pace.

The last building fell and the sea appeared on his right. The beach extended to the sidewalk in the blink of an eye and touched his boots. Then the water came, an olive green, almost black at the depths, emerald and onyx together swimming as far as the eye can see. The sun had the color of absinthe, a lime dipped in a cocktail of sea plants.

He knew this landscape.

–  You finally found me.

He turned around to meet eyes the same deep green as his.

–  Mother…

–  Adrian. You look well. Come sit with me. – She padded the bench she was sitting on.

He took a step closer and sat following the commanding note in her voice.

–   You hid well mother. I’ve been searching for you for five years. – They stared the sea.

–   I know. My informants told me you were searching. I can’t lie that I am happy to see you Adrian. I wanted to talk to you.

–    Spare me. I haven’t come for hugs and love. I want what is mine by right. I want the control over the kingdom and the Illusory cities.

–   You lost your right when you killed your brothers. Three dead birds in the cage. – She looked at him, her eyes showing no emotion – I prefer another son dead over a mad and selfish ruler.

Adrian stood up.

–   You wouldn’t dare kill me. I’m the only heir.

She tilted her head to one side.

–  Boy, come here. – Her voice rang and a child not more than seven came from behind Adrian. His eyes burned green. He stood beside the woman.

–  No… – whispered Adrian.

His mother took out a silver knife.

–  The mother does what is best for her most loved child. Even if the price is blood.

Something glistened in the dying day.

Adrian gasped at the sharp pain shattering his world, filling it with red.

8 thoughts on “Four dead birds

  1. Wow, parts of this reminded me of Lovecraft. This was quite a romp through a universe for a flash-sized piece!

    Mom can always have another kid… it’s always a bad move thinking you’re not expendable.

    • Thank you Larry, your comment brings me much joy and pumps me up with steam to write!
      Oh and I’m sure mother dearest has tricks up her sleeves and a plan to bring a heir.

  2. This is really cool, Cindy. =)

    An intriguing start that engages straight away, making you think, and re-think, about this world.

    The paragraph with the other cities was a little muddled for me. Some really great imagery and ideas in there, just a little hard to keep track of.

    And then the confrontation with the mother, very well-played, tense and shifting the presumed hero to the villain of the piece. Kick-ass ending. Loved it. =)

    • Thanks stopping by and sharing a comment John!

      I know what you mean. I’ve felt it on the re-read but whats done was done.

      While writing I wanted to insert the idea of such cities and give a glimpse of their vision but was a bit to eager to do so and indeed kind of made it confusing and slightly out of place.

      Am still in the learning process : )

      But I’m glad you found the story cool!

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