Minimalist Gossip Magazine Cover (49).pdf (23) - Flipbook - Page 55
THE PRINCE & THE BIRDS EYE
by Kim Silva
The prince had asked his mother for something good to eat, a special treat.
Something to make him fearless and strong. He anticipated the tasty morsels;
they’d do the trick; there’d be no more tears, no more crawling through rubbish in
search of gold dust. He’d stand tall; ten stories high; licking the paint off of
passing birds. His mother was good; wasn’t she?
Mother was not so tall; only tall as a Christmas tree. But she had the head of a
bird. She used her single eye as a weapon; like a muscle it had grown enormous
because of all that she had seen. He smiled knowing this would be his chance to be
somebody. Make it work, he said, make me strong, Mother. She said she would give
him something very special. Unbeknownst to him, the persimmons she gave him were
poisoned. He gobbled them up; so anxious to be new and improved. But the opposite
happened.
The prince is small now and quiet; frozen in fear. He has no arms no legs only a
head upon which has settled two breasts that cover his eyes. He sees only spoilt
milk. Behind him is a rack of pig, its splayed rib cage hangs above and behind
him, swaying. His mother’s eye is satisfied, moving slowly, rocking upon waves of
bloated oxygen. It sees the bottomless pits and the edge of the sky when it loses
its blue. The bird’s head and eye bob up and down in mechanical motions onto the
icy surface of the prince. She chips away at him. He won’t run away.
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