Beautiful Creature


A gust of wind blows her down to the river, and there, among the flowers and trees, she experiences a measure of peace that makes her feel light on her feet. Rummaging through her bag, she pulls out a few slices of bread wrapped in kitchen roll. Breaking the bread into pieces, she kneels down by the water’s edge and tosses some in until two curious swans come over to investigate. Picking the pieces up in their beaks, they move ever closer until they’re just a few feet away. Feeling brave, she reaches out her arm, and sure enough, one of the swans approaches and takes the bread she’s clutching from her hand. Smiling as it does, she admires its feathers and its effortless sense of grace, and even though she’s not feeling sad, she wipes away a tear and tells the swans not to tell a soul. The minutes pass into hours, and even though her ration of bread soon runs out, the swans stick around so she decides to take some photos. It’s almost as if they want her to, for they circle each other and spread their wings in the most amazing of ways, and no matter how many times she thinks she’s taken the last one, they continue their dance allowing her to snap a few more. The cold takes its toll, though, and when she stands there shivering while looking down the length of the river, the day seems old even though it can’t be no more than noon. Closing her eyes, she pictures herself as one of them, a swan, gliding over the water so free and unchained to the things that cause her so much trouble. Smiling once more, she sees herself soaring into the sky, and as the town below grows so small, she flutters her wings, and just for a second, it feels as if she too were a beautiful creature, and as her heart skips a beat, the swans join her and together they move through the clouds to a place far away from those who would ever do her harm.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

14 replies »

  1. This is so lovely.
    It reminded me of how much I loved the ballet, Swan Lake, when I was little. I didn’t understand the story, but one of my earliest memories was crying myself to sleep because it was on tv past my bedtime! But I was a quiet weeper and my lovely mother felt so bad about it when I told her years later. I had the music on cassette and played it often. Oh my gosh, I had forgotten that. Thanks for the memory! 🌸

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