ORIGIN: Day and night. Songbirds and howling wolves. The gossip goes on. Who are we to brush it off?
It will never go out of fashion, it’s more common than you think. We bond over other people’s misfortune. When wolves howl, no one follows their breath to the moon. We dive, headfirst, into the darkness that beats where their heart should be. We are little birds that like to spread words more than we like to spread our wings.
From your lips to God’s ears. I always liked that saying. But wishes fall on deaf ears, as soon as they breach the exosphere. We listen to lies. They are on everyone’s lips. Mouth-to-mouth. Almost as if lies are what keeps us alive. And in a way they do. Because lies taste like the insect exoskeletons birds regurgitate. We howl, like wolves, and up they go. We live to see another day.
Do you believe in fairytales? Ugly ducklings that grow into swans and wolves that blow houses down. If you had told me to describe my beating heart, I would have shown you pages being turned. But twenty children opened their mouths as one, and my book shriveled and died. This world will never live up to the beauty someone painstakingly handwrote. Our collective bad breath is what shapes the world.
Don’t be naive. Even if we could read hearts, gossip and hearsay would still spread like dragonfire. It has nothing to do with doing our part, all that matters is leaving our mark. There are no craftsman’s signatures on truths. Lies, on the other hand, can be colored to our liking. And we will continue coloring them till the end of time.
Names are proof of ownership. Have you ever wondered why language came into being? Allow me to enlighten you. Bonds have to be tightened. Wolves can’t be allowed to howl, and birds can’t be allowed to fly. Words are a leash, and gossip’s sole purpose is to tell apart owners and dogs.
The more others talk about you, the more you lose your voice. Any last words?
When I still needed help to reach the sink, I scalded my goldfish. That was an honest mistake.
On the coldest day of my life, I sighed and came face to face with the ghost I was holding onto.
When I was 5 years old, I made a snow angel.
On my seventh birthday I outlasted the stars. I stayed up reading with a flashlight until midday.
I wanted to overturn the boat, but I failed. I barely rocked it.
Let’s play broken telephone.
Thank you, but I think I will sit this game out. I don’t understand why you take the trouble to whisper. Wouldn’t it be simpler to write the original message down?
I never knew that wolves breathed fire, but it makes sense. Come to think of it, the sun is too far away, and wolves howl at their loudest just before a full moon.
I must have misheard. Gulping down the sun can’t be that wolf’s swan song. How could it betray the moon?
I said cockatrice! Why would you reduce my sunrise to a sunset?
Is this supposed to be a tale of woe? You said gilded cage, but you meant castle, didn’t you? You shouldn’t have brought birds into this. Don’t you know that birds live longer in captivity? That’s the reason they never cease to sing so beautifully.