They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
Feathers: A 99 word storyFeathersFeathers: A 99 word story by halloweenchild13
I looked to the sky and what my eye beheld was a flock of birds flying in formation in the air. Big and small, cooing and cawing, putting on a spectacular show. Daredevil tricks, diving, spinning, swooping low and grabbing each other’s feet in a strange aerial tango. While this happened feathers fell from their bodies and floated slowly in the air like snow, so strange yet beautiful. The street was showered with enough feathers to fill a quilt making factory. Still the birds flew and danced their odd dance and still the feathers fell. I was struck dumb.