The first word the dictionary gave us was zephyr, a gentle wind. In the same page we found a zipper. And after letting the wind do its thing, our eyes landed on a finch. A small bird with a strong beak, that still won’t be a match for the wind.
This is the story of a bird, that had the misfortune of being born with a zipper in its beak. Poor little finch, it believed itself special. It didn’t know that everyone shared its fate. That it was a common bird, and everyone else was also born with zippers in their mouths.
The finch believed itself alone. Unable to sing. Every time it opened its beak, the wind blew, zipping it tightly shut. And maybe it was because the finch believed itself alone, that it wasn’t one to easily give up. One day the finch flew west, and it didn’t stop until it met that wind named Zephyr.
The finch tore off one of its legs. The finch used it to close the wind’s mouth tightly shut. And sing, for the first time in its life.
Little finch, you don’t know what you have done. The Wind was a conductor. It pulled the zippers up and down, creating a perfect melody. But now that there is free will, there will only be chaos and off-key noise.
My world is made of sound. I exist. The finch doesn’t. I exist. The finch doesn’t. I exist. I exist. I exist.
Couldn’t you have closed the Wind’s mouth sooner? Before I lost my teeth pulling down my zipper? Useless finch, you could have prevented my loss!
The Wind played favorites. It never pulled up my zipper or my bird’s zipper. I feel guilty. And I wonder if there would have been a different ending, if the Wind had treated everyone alike, if it had pulled up everyone’s zippers.
Misery loves company. The Wind pulled up my zipper, but it allowed this bird to keep singing and that is not fair. There should be an equivalent loss. That is why I will keep this bird from flying.
The Wind had my best interest in mind. It controlled my zipper, it decided what I could see without ending traumatized. But the Wind doesn’t blow anymore. And I don’t trust myself. I don’t dare open my eyes.
This is my chance. Now that the finch has closed the Wind’s mouth I can finally laugh aloud. It never bothered me that words disappeared in the wind. But laughter is different. It deserves to stay and claim a territory for itself.
I’m angry at the Wind. It should have defended itself. Now my eyes are open and the Wind won’t close them again. I cannot dream, I cannot take shelter. I am forced to see the world, and the only choice I have left is pulling those zippers up myself.
Singing is crying, it’s spilling my heart. But the Wind pulled up my zipper. The Wind took that last comfort from me.
The Wind took the song from the finch, the most important thing. The Wind pulled my zippers up. It took the world from me, my most important thing, and now I don’t belong anywhere.
I should have captured that finch before it could close the Wind’s mouth. Its beak would be closed now, it wouldn’t be screaming at the world, and I would have the peace and quiet that I miss.
I know what that finch is going to do. But I cannot prevent these tears from falling, from pulling down my zippers. I don’t want to watch that tragedy, but these tears won’t let me close my eyes.