Friday Flash Fiction — Forsaken

How apropos, the nineteenth floor ledge on the verge of his nineteenth birth date, he stepped up and wobbled. Perspiration and tears, trickled evenly along his chiseled face. He caught his balance, the once stunning blue of his eyes dulling grayer with each spent tear. Just do it . . . .

Perched less than a shoulder’s width away, I listened in on his thoughts. Pain and confusion engulfed him, inflamed his need, or so he thought. My shoulders tight, my feathers flared, with a stretch and a snap, loose underlining flew in the air about me, fluttering, drifting on the breeze. Despite knowing his agony, naivety sickened me. Try living the pain of ten thousand lifetimes, I wished to tell him. What I wouldn’t give for an hour in his shoes–healthy, beautiful, physical, intelligent–

“Just. One. Step.” The toe of his right shoe met the edge, as his garbled words reached my ears.

Okay–maybe not so intelligent. Wings tucked neatly, I appeared at his side. “She’s a doozy,” I said, stretching as I settled, ass on the cool stone.

For such a young pup, he had guts. I’d give him that. He didn’t as much as flinch at the sound of my voice nor turn to me as he asked, “What’s it to you?”

What was it to me? More like, what was he to me. He would never know. That, I’d do everything in my power to ensure was never revealed.