Scribblings

Just a collection of various stories I began with no intention to finish, or answers to writing prompts. Enjoy! Please visit my author page on FB! facebook.com/author.anrisaryn Also note, some of these may be removed later if I feel the urge to expand on them!

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51. Our Politicians are Birds

         The birds circled overhead, cawing loudly as if the abandoned sight below them indicated the dead were near. They perched in a colony on the dead tree next to the ancient structure, long since left behind to nature.
         It wasn’t a place unfamiliar to Elena. She had visited it many times before when she felt the pressures of life growing too much. Running a flower shop in town was a little busier than she had expected, but it was her livelihood, so she accepted it as it was.
         It hadn’t been her choice to inherit the shop. Her fathers had always run it, but after the accident, Papa had never been the same. They had always been together; Papa and Daddy she had called them. It was strange to say just one without the other. They were pretty much attached at the hip.
         So now, Elena was in charge of the shop. It’s not to say she wasn’t ready. She was 22 years old, well old enough to own the business. Papa often came into the shop to check up on her, but left shortly after watering a few hydrangeas.
At one point, she had shouted at him. She regretted it shortly after, but she had insisted he needed to break out of this depression. Daddy would not be happy to see Papa so upset still five years later not doing anything with himself!
         He had admitted she was right, but nothing had changed.
         This week he hadn’t said so much as a word to her. She was really beginning to worry. The shop had kept her much too busy to even spend time with him.
But the stress of the customers, plus Papa being so withdrawn had finally gotten to her, and she closed the shop for a few hours to escape to her favorite spot.
The old buildings seemed almost ancient, as if they were from a time gone past instead of just a few years ago. She didn’t know what it was going to be, but construction had stopped rather quickly. Rumors of a curse on the land began circulating. 
         Some said this was the burial place of Ingor the Mighty; when he died, he commanded this land be marked sacred for only those that were just and righteous. Apparently the builders didn’t believe that and began to build this structure. The plan was to turn it into the new governmental capital. Elena guessed they weren’t as just and rightous as they made out to be.
         Her thoughts circling, just like the birds, she sat down on the stairs leading to the main building structure and looked at the sky. A raven landed near her, watching her as if asking for food. There was a glint in its eye that made her think perhaps the curse was real, and all these ravens were actually what became of the builders.
         “Our politicians are black birds now,” she said with a slight chuckle. The raven tilted its head as if it understood. She frowned, feeling a little uneasy. What if she was right? What if there really was a curse?
         A shiver ran through her and she stood up to leave. She had enough on her mind. She didn’t want to worry about builders and parliamentary members turning into animals right now.

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