Original - The Golden Mirror
I haven't been writing for ages. I hear the words but when I try to write them, they just go *poof*. I'm trying to force it right now because really, I want to write again. T_T
Wrote a nonsense piece for practice. Turned out more like a children's story. I suppose I'll revise it one day, and make it sound prettier, more child-like. For now:
Graceful was the way it danced on the trees, the Maria Kapra with its dark brown wings and flaring tail. It liked to jump from branch to branch, plant to plant, teasing Catherine to follow it on its merry path. It was easy for her to fall under its spell. She always took care to keep a cautious distance, lest she scare the beautiful bird away.
It wasn't often she saw the Maria Kapra at first. There were many afternoons she didn't see its little face or a flash of white from the underside of its long tail. Catherine didn't mind. The rare times she saw it was enough. It always made her feel warm inside. The Maria Kapra always bounced about so happily that it made even her smile. She liked sharing in its simple joy.
It was much to her surprise that Catherine found the Maria Kapra on her sill one day, twittering a little song in greeting. She came out at its call and it flew about making her laugh and dance and follow after it in an all-in-one game of tag, hide-and-seek, follow-the-leader. It always came for her after then, not every day, but when the sun was shining brightest. Catherine was always ready, her ear tuned for the sound of its call to come out and play.
Under the warm shade of the trees, when the sun was passing its peak point, Catherine would sit and listen to the Maria Kapra sing. Often it would dance about her, and she would watch it with adoring eyes, marveling at how it could seem as light as air. There were long afternoons when she wished she could join it in its flight, to feel the gladness in the Maria Kapra's breast as it came to entertain her with its winged exploits. How wonderful to be a Maria Kapra, to live such a simple life of singing and dancing in the treetops.
The Maria Kapra seemed quite taken with Catherine as well. Some of the adults said it was because she was still a child. A bird and a child could get along quite well, their worlds not really that different from one another. Catherine knew it was because of her special mirror, the one she brought with her when she went to play. It was a hand mirror with a golden handle, carved with flowers and birds. That was why she had brought it the first time, because she wanted to show the Maria Kapra the prettily carved birds along the handle and across the back of the mirror.
But the Maria Kapra was more astonished with the image of itself in the looking glass. How it turned and bobbed and twisted in front of it, prettying itself and thinking itself quite lovely. Catherine laughed in delight at its antics and indulged the Maria Kapra, letting it preen before itself as much as it liked while Catherine patiently held the mirror before it. She thought she might tame it one day, if she waited long enough.
But the Maria Kapra was wild and the sunny days were short. It could not be tamed. When the clouds came full of rain and thunder, the birds flew away. The Maria Kapra went away with them, it being a bird and wild. It could not stay with Catherine, she not being a bird who could fly up with it to chase after the shining golden sun.
So Catherine stayed behind and turned her eyes to her own in her special golden mirror. They were brown - she hadn't noticed how brown they were before. Carefully, she curled the lashes, and, equally as gentle, lined the lids until they looked sharply defined. She brushed her tangled hair and powdered her face, and stained her lips with color and gloss. And then, pleased at the sight of herself, Catherine put the mirror away.
When the summer came again, the Maria Kapra returned but Catherine was not there to hear its song. She had found her own light and laughter, and her world now seemed very different from the Maria Kapra's. When Catherine was a child, it hadn't seemed so very far apart, but now she had grown and learned. She was no longer the child she once was.
Some days, the Maria Kapra would alight on Catherine's window sill and call. Whenever Catherine heard its melody, she would recall those afternoons bathed in sunlight and warm leafy shadows. She would remember the special golden mirror that the Maria Kapra had been fond of, now tucked away at the bottom of her dresser.
Catherine would never take it out again. Instead, she would press her glossed lips together and be silent as the Maria Kapra's song faded into the dusk.
Wrote a nonsense piece for practice. Turned out more like a children's story. I suppose I'll revise it one day, and make it sound prettier, more child-like. For now:
Graceful was the way it danced on the trees, the Maria Kapra with its dark brown wings and flaring tail. It liked to jump from branch to branch, plant to plant, teasing Catherine to follow it on its merry path. It was easy for her to fall under its spell. She always took care to keep a cautious distance, lest she scare the beautiful bird away.
It wasn't often she saw the Maria Kapra at first. There were many afternoons she didn't see its little face or a flash of white from the underside of its long tail. Catherine didn't mind. The rare times she saw it was enough. It always made her feel warm inside. The Maria Kapra always bounced about so happily that it made even her smile. She liked sharing in its simple joy.
It was much to her surprise that Catherine found the Maria Kapra on her sill one day, twittering a little song in greeting. She came out at its call and it flew about making her laugh and dance and follow after it in an all-in-one game of tag, hide-and-seek, follow-the-leader. It always came for her after then, not every day, but when the sun was shining brightest. Catherine was always ready, her ear tuned for the sound of its call to come out and play.
Under the warm shade of the trees, when the sun was passing its peak point, Catherine would sit and listen to the Maria Kapra sing. Often it would dance about her, and she would watch it with adoring eyes, marveling at how it could seem as light as air. There were long afternoons when she wished she could join it in its flight, to feel the gladness in the Maria Kapra's breast as it came to entertain her with its winged exploits. How wonderful to be a Maria Kapra, to live such a simple life of singing and dancing in the treetops.
The Maria Kapra seemed quite taken with Catherine as well. Some of the adults said it was because she was still a child. A bird and a child could get along quite well, their worlds not really that different from one another. Catherine knew it was because of her special mirror, the one she brought with her when she went to play. It was a hand mirror with a golden handle, carved with flowers and birds. That was why she had brought it the first time, because she wanted to show the Maria Kapra the prettily carved birds along the handle and across the back of the mirror.
But the Maria Kapra was more astonished with the image of itself in the looking glass. How it turned and bobbed and twisted in front of it, prettying itself and thinking itself quite lovely. Catherine laughed in delight at its antics and indulged the Maria Kapra, letting it preen before itself as much as it liked while Catherine patiently held the mirror before it. She thought she might tame it one day, if she waited long enough.
But the Maria Kapra was wild and the sunny days were short. It could not be tamed. When the clouds came full of rain and thunder, the birds flew away. The Maria Kapra went away with them, it being a bird and wild. It could not stay with Catherine, she not being a bird who could fly up with it to chase after the shining golden sun.
So Catherine stayed behind and turned her eyes to her own in her special golden mirror. They were brown - she hadn't noticed how brown they were before. Carefully, she curled the lashes, and, equally as gentle, lined the lids until they looked sharply defined. She brushed her tangled hair and powdered her face, and stained her lips with color and gloss. And then, pleased at the sight of herself, Catherine put the mirror away.
When the summer came again, the Maria Kapra returned but Catherine was not there to hear its song. She had found her own light and laughter, and her world now seemed very different from the Maria Kapra's. When Catherine was a child, it hadn't seemed so very far apart, but now she had grown and learned. She was no longer the child she once was.
Some days, the Maria Kapra would alight on Catherine's window sill and call. Whenever Catherine heard its melody, she would recall those afternoons bathed in sunlight and warm leafy shadows. She would remember the special golden mirror that the Maria Kapra had been fond of, now tucked away at the bottom of her dresser.
Catherine would never take it out again. Instead, she would press her glossed lips together and be silent as the Maria Kapra's song faded into the dusk.