by JunoMagic
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives-ShareAlike license
Phoenix
She wasn’t in the habit of listening to vagabonds. She didn’t even listen to her parish priest on a regular basis. She certainly wasn’t in the habit of giving money to beggars who huddled in front of shopping windows, scrounging coins for the cheapest possible bottle of booze.
So why was she standing here now, pretending that she didn’t listen to the tramp talking to the street-lamp?
Maybe, because he wasn’t rambling, ranting, or raving in the haze of his intoxication. Not exactly, at least.
‘…then the wind stirred the cold ashes and carried them away. The motes of dust coalesced in the last ray of the setting sun. And suddenly they started to burn again. Red and golden, the phoenix spread his wings. In the darkness he became a light for all who saw him.’
The man fell silent and gaped blindly at the street-lamp. As if he expected a phoenix to burst forth from the lamp pole momentarily. At last the vagrant shuddered and started brushing invisible dirt from his shabby coat.
Suddenly he noticed her and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘That part doesn’t hurt. But the ashes are impossible to get rid of.’
Song of the day:
Link(s) of the day:
Phoenix at the Aberdeen Bestiary | at the Medieval Bestiary | in the fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen
…and my wish for you today is:
May you find the fire of rebirth even in the ashes of despair!
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I adore this – it’s so lovely and so bleak all at once. Thank you!