Status: Stories do not intertwine, will go on forever.
Unfortunate Souls
Beautiful Tragedy
I used to think swans were beautiful, tragic creatures. Always the symbol of love and beauty.
Now, looking at them from the cafe window, I realized they were just tragic. The park rangers had done their best to bring out their beauty - the evidence being the roses and tulips surrounding the lake - but if anything, it made the birds stick out.
They weren't pretty birds. Definitely not beautiful. And all they did was swim. No loving gazes to their mate like in all those movies. They sat there, away from the ducks and hiding under the shade.
The coffee between my fingers burned, but I only gripped the mug tighter.
Swans were pretty dumb. They find a mate, and devote their lives to each other. If one dies, the other follows - from heartbreak of all things. How do they fall so completely? Why are they willing to give their life just for a chance of love?
They were basically Romeo and Juliet, except more likable.
The mug in my hand fought my tightening grip, and I finally let go, standing abruptly. I found myself marching towards the mass of white down and stopping at the waters edge. They honked in greeting, and I glared at them. One swan was farther away from the others, looking sickly and thin.
"See?" I told it. "You put yourself out there, and gave your life to some bird. Now they're dead, and so are you."
It honked sadly as if agreeing. With a sigh, I sat down on the grass, staring at it.
Maybe we could be tragic together.
Now, looking at them from the cafe window, I realized they were just tragic. The park rangers had done their best to bring out their beauty - the evidence being the roses and tulips surrounding the lake - but if anything, it made the birds stick out.
They weren't pretty birds. Definitely not beautiful. And all they did was swim. No loving gazes to their mate like in all those movies. They sat there, away from the ducks and hiding under the shade.
The coffee between my fingers burned, but I only gripped the mug tighter.
Swans were pretty dumb. They find a mate, and devote their lives to each other. If one dies, the other follows - from heartbreak of all things. How do they fall so completely? Why are they willing to give their life just for a chance of love?
They were basically Romeo and Juliet, except more likable.
The mug in my hand fought my tightening grip, and I finally let go, standing abruptly. I found myself marching towards the mass of white down and stopping at the waters edge. They honked in greeting, and I glared at them. One swan was farther away from the others, looking sickly and thin.
"See?" I told it. "You put yourself out there, and gave your life to some bird. Now they're dead, and so are you."
It honked sadly as if agreeing. With a sigh, I sat down on the grass, staring at it.
Maybe we could be tragic together.