Stream of Consciousness Writing

Zarion: Hi! Usually, every post is planned out.

Tigerboy: And in skit form!

Zarion: Not this one.

Tigerboy: Zarion’s going to be doing a stream-of-consciousness writing session.

Zarion: Just for fun, I’m going to be writing with no purpose. I will simply write whatever comes out of my head. If you enjoy it, comment with your thoughts.

Tigerboy: Even if you hate it, comment with your thoughts. Now, let the fun begin!

The boulder dropped from its resting point. At once, the equilibrium of my resting point was disturbed. My nest toppled out of orbit, sending feathers scattering into the breeze.

“Quickly!” I called out to my fellow canaries. “Let us run! If we tarry, the boulder will kill us!” My companions, sadly, did not share my powers of intellect. They simply squawked, chirped, and cawed. The boulder flew ever faster, almost as if it had wings. Terrifying, hawk-like wings. Unable to bear it any longer, I flew away, a fraction of a second before my new family was crushed.

Bubbles shimmered in the distance. Hoots of raucous laughter gelled with the shooting of guns and other various weapons. I had no idea where I was. My only points of reference were mountains and the thick, pungent odor of tick spray. With a sinking heart, I realized where I was. Canine Country.

“What’re you doin’ here?” It was a dog. I did not recognize him, but I had heard stories. This was a Shi Tzu, known to be the cutest breed of dog in the world. Unfortunately, they were territorial. I tried to formulate a response.

“I’m here, because I have a mission.” The dog stared at me, gauging my reaction. Growing angry, he barked and snarled. I scurried away, feeling grateful for the twine that bound his collar to a nearby post.

Nine years have passed. I am now the only remaining canary in the world. I have searched the globe for my relatives, finding no success. I am doomed. No one can understand the trauma I have suffered through…

I am dying. Without other people to sustain my happiness, the Gem of Drink can no longer function. This journal is all I have. Goodbye, world. The cats can not get me now. The dogs are no longer able to harm me. Humans are free from the dangers that are thrust against me.

The sun grows brighter, as the process ends. I miss the kiss of the moon. Were-Canaries…..Such a bad idea, in retrospective.



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