posted on Aug, 7 2016 @ 11:16 AM
"So that's it then."
I stare back over my shoulder once more at what was once my home, now just a few trees remain. The once thick and bustling forest has been reduced to
a cacophony of mans toils and war. Thick smoke lingers above the tree line giving way to any notion of a better time.
"I am the last"
Wiping the last tear I'll ever shed for this place off my curving beak, I set off for a place my family spoke of often. A place where dodos do
After walking countless days for what seemed like an eternity, Sir Dodo reached the end of his realm.
Looking behind him yet again to ensure he is not being followed, he gazes towards the horizon. "No sign of hunters. That's a relief. No sign of home
either." Sir Dodo tries to identify the direction of his old home, as if there was still a shred of longing for home but all he could see is vast
expanse of emptiness. He might as well been walking on sheets of flat construction paper on end for eternity.
After one final mental picture Sir Dodo bends down and reaches into his ruck sack and withdraws his last melon. After a minute of inspection he places
it back in his sack and throws it over his shoulder. "Best to wait". He turns and continues his journey to a place he has only ever heard of. "How
ever will I find this place?".
Ahead in the distance lies a thick grove of trees just a few minutes walk now. Circling above the grove he can spot a few fellow foul fixated perhaps
on what is likely their dinner.
Sir dodo found himself imagining sharing such a meal, and even though it feels as though his stomach may eat itself he cringes and the thought.
"yuck, I'd rather eat my sandal. He then looks down at what's left of his footwear, three straps and a sole is all that keeps his webbed feet from
the hard earth. He looks to his appendage with a sense of disdain, gives it a quick flap and rolls his eyes..."these things, I mean really?!"
After spending a few minutes identifying a place to set camp, Sir Dodo relieves his encumbered self and begins to build a fire. This should be good
for the night, he thinks to himself.
Sir dodo settles in with his aching, throbbing feet close to the fire. He pulls his last melon and a tattered, leather manuscript from his sack. He
gazes at the cover as he does each day. Bound in the best leather and engraved with the words Shed of Ac... (The remaining word is faded). Below the
tile is an emblem of a dodo, but not just any dodo, one in flight. "If only", he thinks to himself.
Taking a bite of his over ripped melon he opens the cover and begins his nightly ritual.
Sir Dodo awoke with a start and a cold chill running up his spine. He had been more exhausted than he realized to allow himself to be so exposed.
Looking out to the horizon the dark night was giving way to a new day. After placing the fine leather book back in his sack, Sir Dodo shoved off with
a new sense of determination. He had only made it a few steps before being reminded, every so rudely by his tummy, that there are certain priorities.
Dodo scans his surroundings and begins to forage through the shrubbery within the grove inch by inch. He finds a few berries and some nuts buried in
sporadic pockets across the groves floor. The squirrels won't mind, he thinks to himself.
Having been satisfied with his booty, Dodo finds the closest rock and digs into his breakfast. The meal is brief but effective for his tummy rumblings
have ceased for now. He was just about to head out when he noticed the sound of flowing water close by. He scans the area and quickly finds the source
which is no more then a trickle of water in a dried up creek bed. He decides to follow the path to see where it leads as it is surely better than the
alternative, thinking back to the endless rows of flat construction paper.
.....to be continued.