LKHT
09-08-2012, 11:21 AM
A middle-aged man sat on his porch as oppressive raindrops filled his view. It was a gloomy Friday afternoon, and after a long day of sitting around in the house, he decided he would enjoy some fresh air while he smoked his old-fashioned pipe. He slowly and shakily attempted to light the tobacco, and, after several attempts, managed to achieve his ends. Through the thick smoke emitted from the end of his pipe and the downpour, he silently gazed at the empty field. He mildly noted the peeling paint on his doorsteps and the browned grass in his yard, choked by strange weeds of an unknown variety. After an hour or so of such activity, he walked around the house to the back porch. There, he tended to his most prized possessions: an ornate gold cage encrusted with jewels, containing three swallows, a mother and her two children. There, he reminisced…
Years ago, the man had been a handsome young fellow, successful in business and envied by many. He was frugal and reserved, though, and he guarded his fortune jealously. His success was known throughout the whole city, as was his introverted and reclusive personality. Despite his wealth, he was not a showy man; he lived in a modest home by a small pond. The home was a dark gray color, resembling a stone keep of medieval times. All of the money he had accumulated he used to buy bars of gold, which he stored in a secret safe placed underneath his home. One day, as he was sitting on his porch he found a swallow nest that had fallen out of a tree near his home, with a wounded bird lying next to it. Appreciating their beauty, he picked up the bird and its nest and brought them home. He healed the bird using expensive salves and balms that he found in his large medical cupboard. Soon, the eggs hatched and two young swallows, a male and a female by his recognition, added their voices to their mother’s solo. A symphony of birdsong flooded the house in those few days and pervaded the dark gloom the previously persisted within the stone keep.
The man briefly considered releasing the small family of birds, but he reasoned that hose birds owed their lives to him, so they must spend their lives with him, their master. Over the course of time, he spent more and more of his waking hours tending to the birds and neglecting his home and job. He got fired and his home fell into disrepair, but he could care less. Using much of his gold, he created a gilded cage with beautiful gold leaves and ruby and emerald blossoms for his only companions.
After several months, the birds grew agitated. The young swallows were almost adults and they wanted to fly free, outside those delicate golden bars. Though the man recognized their intentions, he refused to lose his only true possessions. He was under the impression that he loved them too much. One night, the birds flew repeatedly into the side of the cage, trying to break free. In the morning, the man arrived to find that all three swallows were lying dead at the bottom of their golden prison. Anger overtook him, and he screamed in rage at the feathery corpses. For days, he sat in front of the cage, shaking in disbelief. In a few weeks, his appearance deteriorated. His eyes became laden with defeat and age beyond his years. From that day on, he refused to leave the confines of his house or utter another word.
And now, as he silently polished the cage and glared mournfully at the bleached bones, he thought to himself, ‘A pity…’
Years ago, the man had been a handsome young fellow, successful in business and envied by many. He was frugal and reserved, though, and he guarded his fortune jealously. His success was known throughout the whole city, as was his introverted and reclusive personality. Despite his wealth, he was not a showy man; he lived in a modest home by a small pond. The home was a dark gray color, resembling a stone keep of medieval times. All of the money he had accumulated he used to buy bars of gold, which he stored in a secret safe placed underneath his home. One day, as he was sitting on his porch he found a swallow nest that had fallen out of a tree near his home, with a wounded bird lying next to it. Appreciating their beauty, he picked up the bird and its nest and brought them home. He healed the bird using expensive salves and balms that he found in his large medical cupboard. Soon, the eggs hatched and two young swallows, a male and a female by his recognition, added their voices to their mother’s solo. A symphony of birdsong flooded the house in those few days and pervaded the dark gloom the previously persisted within the stone keep.
The man briefly considered releasing the small family of birds, but he reasoned that hose birds owed their lives to him, so they must spend their lives with him, their master. Over the course of time, he spent more and more of his waking hours tending to the birds and neglecting his home and job. He got fired and his home fell into disrepair, but he could care less. Using much of his gold, he created a gilded cage with beautiful gold leaves and ruby and emerald blossoms for his only companions.
After several months, the birds grew agitated. The young swallows were almost adults and they wanted to fly free, outside those delicate golden bars. Though the man recognized their intentions, he refused to lose his only true possessions. He was under the impression that he loved them too much. One night, the birds flew repeatedly into the side of the cage, trying to break free. In the morning, the man arrived to find that all three swallows were lying dead at the bottom of their golden prison. Anger overtook him, and he screamed in rage at the feathery corpses. For days, he sat in front of the cage, shaking in disbelief. In a few weeks, his appearance deteriorated. His eyes became laden with defeat and age beyond his years. From that day on, he refused to leave the confines of his house or utter another word.
And now, as he silently polished the cage and glared mournfully at the bleached bones, he thought to himself, ‘A pity…’