SWISH . . .
I wriggled back to consciousness.
Swish.
Glistening leaves rustled under the cold-disk’s pale light.
Soft footsteps.
I peeked through my tree-bark crack of a bedroom window.
Humans tiptoed through grass in the dark, cloaked by the shadow of our tree-home.
I guess they don’t want to wake the whole zone.
A small girl, whose hair waved in the air, scurried quick steps near the end of the human line.
The man at the end stooped down, scooped up, and carried the girl.
I scratched my head.
A woman in front bent, opened a square of grass and descended into their secret hole.
One by one, they went down the hole.
The last man peered out before lowering himself and replacing the sod cover.
I walked across our fly-tree-house to our ant-chewed front door, leapt out and flew to the sand-sea.
The hot-disk would appear soon.
Anthers!
I’d flew about the sand-sea for two hot-disk and one cold-disk appearances in search of a flower.
I rushed to the shriveled bloom.
Careful now. One foot in the stamen’s pollen-bearing shells, a quick pull and a back flip. One anther broke free from its stalk. Now, five feet to go.
I backstroked.
The fast rising hot-disk reddened the endless sand-sea and curled up the petals. It bit my heart.
I reeled away and flew towards the human zone.
Father awaited my arrival.
“Father, Father. Look!” I took off the new-found treasures and laid them on the floor for my father to see.
My father smile and winged my head. “Now, Sor, I know you’re too excited to give those to Fli right now. But it’s buzz-time. You’ll only live for a hundred hot-disk appearances, so you’ll need to buzz memories as my father buzzed them to me.
Father drew his head closer to mine, and I saw . . .
Read the rest of the "Soar on Wings" excerpt at The Lost Genre Guild website .
I wriggled back to consciousness.
Swish.
Glistening leaves rustled under the cold-disk’s pale light.
Soft footsteps.
I peeked through my tree-bark crack of a bedroom window.
Humans tiptoed through grass in the dark, cloaked by the shadow of our tree-home.
I guess they don’t want to wake the whole zone.
A small girl, whose hair waved in the air, scurried quick steps near the end of the human line.
The man at the end stooped down, scooped up, and carried the girl.
I scratched my head.
A woman in front bent, opened a square of grass and descended into their secret hole.
One by one, they went down the hole.
The last man peered out before lowering himself and replacing the sod cover.
I walked across our fly-tree-house to our ant-chewed front door, leapt out and flew to the sand-sea.
The hot-disk would appear soon.
Anthers!
I’d flew about the sand-sea for two hot-disk and one cold-disk appearances in search of a flower.
I rushed to the shriveled bloom.
Careful now. One foot in the stamen’s pollen-bearing shells, a quick pull and a back flip. One anther broke free from its stalk. Now, five feet to go.
I backstroked.
The fast rising hot-disk reddened the endless sand-sea and curled up the petals. It bit my heart.
I reeled away and flew towards the human zone.
Father awaited my arrival.
“Father, Father. Look!” I took off the new-found treasures and laid them on the floor for my father to see.
My father smile and winged my head. “Now, Sor, I know you’re too excited to give those to Fli right now. But it’s buzz-time. You’ll only live for a hundred hot-disk appearances, so you’ll need to buzz memories as my father buzzed them to me.
Father drew his head closer to mine, and I saw . . .
Read the rest of the "Soar on Wings" excerpt at The Lost Genre Guild website .
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