Malcolm And The Eagle
by Scott from Oregon
It was always in plain sight, like a nagging reminder, but far too out of reach.
It was mostly visible at all times to Malcolm, but its edges blurred as it soared past.
When it cried, it cried for its lost and simple innocence while it left the bluer, open skies to other, far freer birds.
Though no longer leather-bound, this bird’s and Malcolm’s fate had become intertwined by an evil act and were no longer separate fates.
Malcolm knew how to stop it, but to stop it was to kill it.
The bird taunted Malcolm, always soaring by in a whirr of disturbed air and steady feathers.
It dove at Malcolm’s head and ripped out talons-full of hair.
Here, beneath these trees, Malcolm fought the eagle with his only advantage- his sentient mind.
The oak canopy was like an invisible sky fence.
Years of training had taught the eagle to soar beneath its entangled limbs.
The squirrels were never in the sky but beneath the canopy.
Squirrel meat could be cooked in a blackened kettle and consumed heartily in a fine stew.
Malcolm was helpless to slow the bird or return the bird to its leathers and perch.
This bird had tasted the meat of his sister. It had consumed a finger and had ripped at one of her exposed nipples.
This bird had tasted of what Malcolm had become capable of.
It could not leave Malcolm now, nor ever leave Malcolm alone again.