FREE TO GO: A SHORT STORY

One day while walking through the forest a man came upon a wing.  Now, he had come upon wings in the forest before, but they were always attached to something.  This one was not.  Yet it was very much alive, as though a being in its own right.

It was not that large, no more than a robin’s wing, but larger than, say, a wren’s wing, which was not large at all.  But what was it doing independent of something else?  And, as such, how was it still alive, and living for who knows how long? 

Picking it up and examining it occurred to the man, except that the wing was watching him warily; one false move by him and it would fly away, even as its condition suggested otherwise.  At the very least, to satisfy his curiosity, the man snuck a peek at the point where the wing would normally be hinged to a body.

The wing eyed him doing so, and took a deep breath.  Unclear was whether the wing was frightened, impatient, or was about to say something. 

 “May I help you?” the wing said, at last.

The man was taken aback.

“Well?” the wing said.

Finally, “What are you?” the man managed in a higher than normal voice, his eyes wide.

“What are you?” the wing echoed, as though a situation it was quite accustomed to.

The man had never before been asked what he was, since it was plain to see what he was.  But then so was the wing obviously a wing. 

“I am a man,” the man then blurted, his voice lower now, “a human.”

“A human well attached, I see.  Earthbound.”

It was true enough, the man had to admit.  “I admit it,” he said.

“I was once attached, earthbound.”

“A bird?”

“Now I am not.”

“You are free to go, then, I suppose, no longer being bound to the earth,” the man said, although with a grin, because a wing by itself was not going anywhere.

The wing grinned back.  “Of course,” it confirmed, and flew away.