[10 in 20] Fic: Original: Gen
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sweetandshortTitle: The Albatross
Fandom: Original
Length: 300
Rating: Gen
Prompt: Instinct
Also inspired by: the instrumental song Far from Land by Nest.
Summary: There is something about an albatross.
There is something in the albatross which will not let its wings stay folded for long. The urge to stretch itself from horizon to horizon is too great. It must unfurl. It must allow its wings to expand to their full measure. Its feathered tips are always reaching, reaching, reaching, spreading, spreading, spreading, as if to brush sunrise and sunset at once. The albatross was not meant to be condensed, cramped, crumpled in upon itself. It longs always to be wider, thinner, longer, to dilute and diffuse and become, at last, one with the clouds and the sunlight and the rain.
There is something in the albatross which will not let it linger, loiter, remain for long. It must go. It must fly. It must be far from home. It must ride currents of air on and on. It must let winds buoy and guide it. It must crest and trough, through storm and shine, above jagged edges of land and vast carpets of seas, along layers of ice, through starry skies and moonlit firmaments, by dawn and dusk and all that lies between its wings. There are nests and eggs and mates and mating, but these are almost, almost, inconsequential. The albatross must go, may return, but must go.
There is something in the albatross which will not be captured nor be chained. Maybe it is the music that sounds in its flute-like bones as it pushes forward, onward, toward its ever-retreating destination. Maybe it is the incense smoke of life’s essence, unadulterated, unpolluted, which puffs through its lungs. It dodges the sailors’ hooks as they fish the skies. It dodges the shipwrecking masts as they lumber and lurch. It will not play like a gull nor prat like a pelican.
There is something about it. There is something.
Fandom: Original
Length: 300
Rating: Gen
Prompt: Instinct
Also inspired by: the instrumental song Far from Land by Nest.
Summary: There is something about an albatross.
There is something in the albatross which will not let its wings stay folded for long. The urge to stretch itself from horizon to horizon is too great. It must unfurl. It must allow its wings to expand to their full measure. Its feathered tips are always reaching, reaching, reaching, spreading, spreading, spreading, as if to brush sunrise and sunset at once. The albatross was not meant to be condensed, cramped, crumpled in upon itself. It longs always to be wider, thinner, longer, to dilute and diffuse and become, at last, one with the clouds and the sunlight and the rain.
There is something in the albatross which will not let it linger, loiter, remain for long. It must go. It must fly. It must be far from home. It must ride currents of air on and on. It must let winds buoy and guide it. It must crest and trough, through storm and shine, above jagged edges of land and vast carpets of seas, along layers of ice, through starry skies and moonlit firmaments, by dawn and dusk and all that lies between its wings. There are nests and eggs and mates and mating, but these are almost, almost, inconsequential. The albatross must go, may return, but must go.
There is something in the albatross which will not be captured nor be chained. Maybe it is the music that sounds in its flute-like bones as it pushes forward, onward, toward its ever-retreating destination. Maybe it is the incense smoke of life’s essence, unadulterated, unpolluted, which puffs through its lungs. It dodges the sailors’ hooks as they fish the skies. It dodges the shipwrecking masts as they lumber and lurch. It will not play like a gull nor prat like a pelican.
There is something about it. There is something.
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Date: 2023-03-24 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2023-03-24 11:40 pm (UTC)