Really interesting how the language changes in this story around the definition of the word "bird." Gives just enough world-building context, along with the mention of the "Last Bird Eggs" exhibit, to give room to explore the characters!
The drones they “now call ‘birds’ because the word became available” is a cold detail, and once it clicks, the girl’s big grey bird with sharp claws becomes something awful. The run-on sentence where the keeper’s own boy breaks through (“my boy is not coming back and it was so long ago anyway…”) carries that whole loss in one breath. I loved the keeper who mutters “Dead things” as a guard ending up listening for the crack too. The duck and the Mother of the Waters reminded me of the opening of the Kalevala. Was that where it came from?
Wow, that packs so much history, imagery, and emotion into such a short space. Something about it almost reminds me of The Giver, and the character that is the keeper of past human memories in it.
There's nothing quite as infectious as childlike wonder. When I play with my daughter in the yard (she's 2), I get to see the world through her eyes. How exciting it is to see a big, fat, fuzzy bumblebee with pollen on its legs. Or to look for the frogs we can hear whilst shouting "FROGSSS ARE YOU???" Truly magical to be a little kid.
I like this story so much better than most of the other pieces you've been publishing lately. When I read a story, I want to feel something, and this one made me feel for both the characters and for their relationship. I don't find cleverness and imagination compelling enough on their own. So hooray for this young entrepreneur and her fine story....
Really interesting how the language changes in this story around the definition of the word "bird." Gives just enough world-building context, along with the mention of the "Last Bird Eggs" exhibit, to give room to explore the characters!
the image of her listening for a beak through the glass at the end is going to stay in my head
beautiful narrative and such coherent style.
The drones they “now call ‘birds’ because the word became available” is a cold detail, and once it clicks, the girl’s big grey bird with sharp claws becomes something awful. The run-on sentence where the keeper’s own boy breaks through (“my boy is not coming back and it was so long ago anyway…”) carries that whole loss in one breath. I loved the keeper who mutters “Dead things” as a guard ending up listening for the crack too. The duck and the Mother of the Waters reminded me of the opening of the Kalevala. Was that where it came from?
This story made me think of Karen Russell's "The Ghost Birds." It is so well rendered, in such a short time.
This is such a sweet story of hope. 🥹
Wow, that packs so much history, imagery, and emotion into such a short space. Something about it almost reminds me of The Giver, and the character that is the keeper of past human memories in it.
Beautiful work 🩵🕊️
A skillfully wrought story. Thank you.
There's nothing quite as infectious as childlike wonder. When I play with my daughter in the yard (she's 2), I get to see the world through her eyes. How exciting it is to see a big, fat, fuzzy bumblebee with pollen on its legs. Or to look for the frogs we can hear whilst shouting "FROGSSS ARE YOU???" Truly magical to be a little kid.
I had the same thought about time with my two-year-old daughter too. The sensation of the elevator under her feet. Love this story.
I like this story so much better than most of the other pieces you've been publishing lately. When I read a story, I want to feel something, and this one made me feel for both the characters and for their relationship. I don't find cleverness and imagination compelling enough on their own. So hooray for this young entrepreneur and her fine story....