Wednesday, February 18, 2015


(Note: the people in the image above do not look particularly like Logan or Sadie. But the image evokes the feelings and emotions I was trying to get across with this writing; so I added this special piece of art in.)

I was on the swings at the park today, listening to music, thinking, and absentmindedly practicing voices. Out of nowhere, I suddenly found myself acting out the conversation here. The general idea had already been in my head, but nearly the entire conversation sprang to mind, line by spontaneous line, all at once, at the park today. When I acted this scene out, Logan had a Scottish accent and Sadie an English one; but that was just how I imagined it. It doesn't actually hold any significance that I know of.

The bit of backstory needed - Logan is a twenty-almost-twenty-one-year-old fellow, and Sadie is a fifteen-year-old. They met somehow, realised they were in similar situations at home or at school... and one thing led to another before they were forced to leave - Logan, chased away by a family who never cared in the first place, and Sadie, who ran away because she didn't feel accepted or loved. Sadie is a dreamer through-and-through, and almost childlike. Logan is a little more - okay, a lot more - aware of the world.

That in mind, here's the scene I wrote. It's random and probably not very good, but I like it; so I posted it here.


 "Logan?" Sadie murmured, lying down on her back in the grass and watching the sky. The last flames of sunset were fading past the horizon, and velvety dark blue began to spread a blanket above.

"Yeah?" Logan sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees.

There was a beat of silence, and then she spoke again. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like to visit the stars?"

Logan ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the sky and then back down at his younger friend. "Sometimes. I think everyone does, at one point or another."

Sadie kept talking, her voice distant, as though speaking from another world. "We can, someday. Some people have wings, you know."

"Do they?"

"Mmhm. See, good people have wings. You know, the people who are kind, and gentle, and go out of their way to help others simply for the sake of helping others. They have wings." She paused, and when Logan glanced at her, he could see her eyes were shut.

Assuming she was asleep, Logan turned his head, planning to get comfortable and try to catch some sleep as well.

Suddenly, she spoke again. "You have very lovely wings."

Logan raised his eyebrows, surprised. Then he smiled slightly, unfolding his legs from beneath his chin and straightening them. "Oh? What do they look like?"

She spoke through a yawn. "They're feathered, and a faded purple. There are faded forest green streaks, and faded midnight blue streaks... but your wings don't look solid, they look almost like mist or... or fire sometimes."

"They do sound pretty." He glanced sideways at her. "Do you have wings?"

"Yes." She spoke matter-of-factly, eyes on the sky again.

"And what do your wings look like?"

"They're feathered, and dove-grey, with pale blue streaks. I like my wings."

"I like your wings too." Logan was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Does everyone have wings?"

"No, because not everyone is good yet," Sadie replied. "Once they learn to love, then they will find their wings."

"You always say that everyone has some good in them, no matter what," Logan pointed out.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they're good people yet; just that they have an ember glowing somewhere deep inside of them." She propped herself up on her elbow and reached out, touching a finger to the scars on Logan's wrist. "They haven't found their wings yet because they haven't learned love or kindness."

Logan bit his lip, the scars reminding him of words and of people he would much rather forget. Before he could search for something to say, Sadie had lain down again.

"We'll fly someday, and we'll get to see the stars. See, we have wings so that when the bad people are trying to hurt or trick us into losing our wings, we can leave the chains of the earth and fly away, somewhere safe. And instead of being around for them to hurt us, we can go and sit on the edge of the crescent moon, or play Tag among the stars."

"Can we fly right now?" Logan asked.

"Not yet. We're still learning how," Sadie said, nodding. "We'll learn."

A companionable silence fell as Logan pondered on everything Sadie had talked about. The sky was dark now, and the stars she held in such high esteem were flickering high above.

Sadie spoke again, and this time, the topic had changed.


"Yes, Sadie?"

She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "Do you... do you think the reason we have no homes and no families now is because... because the Father really is angry at us? Punishing us? Like everyone said?"

Logan's heart went cold and he moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, Sadie." He grasped for an explanation. "You explained it yourself."

She tilted her head. He continued. "We're out here because... because we have wings. You can't trap a bird inside a cage, can you? They're free spirits. They get sad if they have to be kept in one place. And we have wings; we can't be trapped in the same place forever either. We have to travel, because we're free, and when you're free, you can't stay put for long."

Sadie thought about this, leaning her head sideways to rest it on her shoulder, atop Logan's hand. "But why did our families and friends get upset at us?"

Logan shifted and put his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Did they have their wings yet?"

"No." She gazed off at the horizon, deep in thought.

"Well... they weren't upset at us so much as confused." Logan disguised his sigh behind the clearing of his throat. "See, our wings are so different, so bright... they weren't sure how to handle it. It hurt their eyes, and it was something new; something they had never encountered before. And new things scare people sometimes."

"They were scared of us?" Despite the darkness, Logan swore he could see her face fall.

"Not us. Our differences. They were scared of our wings, Sadie. But you'll see - someday, they'll find their wings, and they won't be scared anymore. Then they'll be ready for us to come back."

Sadie was quiet, but he felt her relax a bit. He continued talking. "Until then, we're going to travel. We're going to use our freedom to visit all sorts of places, and maybe even find other people with wings. And we're gonna learn how to fly."

She nodded, yawning again. "I wish my mum wasn't scared of my wings though. And that your mum wasn't scared of yours. I wish you hadn't had to leave."

"Trust me, I don't mind it at all," Logan murmured. "Don't worry. Someday they'll realise that we're just different, and then they won't mind us coming back."

More quiet fell.

After a while, Logan murmured, "Sadie, can people lose their wings, once they find them?"

There was no answer. Listening carefully, Logan heard steady breathing and realised she had fallen asleep.

He gently took his arm from around her shoulders and lowered her to the grass again. She curled up, head resting in a patch of clover.

Logan stood and walked a few yards away, looking down the hill at the town below. He glanced back, lost in thought, before returning to his position a few feet from Sadie. Memories plagued him...

After several moments lost in thought, Logan rummaged around in his backpack until he had located his permanent markers. He selected a purple one and uncapped it, placing the cap in his mouth.

With a steady hand and using only the faint lights from the sky, he sketched two feathered wings onto his wrist, nestling them inside a ring of stars. He studied the job as best he could in the dimness for a minute before recapping his marker and returning it to his backpack. Holding his wrist up, he stared at both the drawing and the marks underneath.

Then, with a last glance in the direction that led to where he had once called 'home', he sprawled out on the grass next to his friend and folded his arms behind his head. Thoughts of stars and wings and 'good people' filled his mind.

He watched the silver-pinpointed expanse of dark blue above his head until somewhere along the line, sleep found him, and he drifted off with a small smile on his face.


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