Every Thursday Sue shares one of her photos as a prompt for inspiration.
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For visually challenged writers, the image shows a sky full of dark, stormy clouds against which four large birds are silhouetted in flight.
The colour had been sapped out of their world.
Flight was their only option, so they set off on the route laid down by their ancestors.
Many had perished, becoming lazy with the spoils of a modern environment. Food was dispensed by well meaning humans, but with it, the urge to fend for themselves was quashed, and in the end they simply forgot how, or didn’t want to.
Their numbers had diminished, such was the control of their surroundings, but for an easy life, none seemed to question the reasons why, just accepted what was as the norm.
That had all changed.
Circumstances, a change in authority, global warming, killer viruses, had all taken their toll and the birds were faced with a do or die situation.
Out of a colony of twelve, only four were left.
Age was immaterial, knowledge was paramount, and luckily two had taken note of the elders musings and memories of migrations long passed.
They took to the skies, soaring high and flying West as their forefathers had done.
Instinct guided them.
They would know when they reached their destination for it would be awash with colour and they could begin again.