White Wings

Bobby felt an itchiness in his shoulder blades. He was worried at first, but then he thought to himself: “Wow! I must be growing wings!” Bobby had heard a story about how butterflies coming out of their coccoons are too weak to live when they’re helped out, so he decided he could not itch his shoulder blades no matter how much he wanted to. He didn’t sleep much at night and he often yelled in pain and bit into his pillow. The bulges that would be his wings grew and became very red and itchy. Finally, he couldn’t help it any longer and itched at his back. It bled and a nest of white bugs came crawling out. He cried, then, not because he had parasites living under his skin, but rather because he knew he would never have wings. He thought that maybe it was his fault for itching them that they didn’t turn into wings like they should have.

The white parasites heard the boy’s crying and were moved by his suffering. That night, while he was sleeping, they constructed themselves into a pair of beautiful, white wings. The boy knew that the parasites had done this for him, but he was grateful for their concern. “My!” he said. “These are the grandest wings a boy could ever wish for! Now I can go on to being a normal boy again.” The white insects paused, not knowing what to do, then they disassembled themselves. The boy realized that he didn’t need wings to be happy. He was just glad there was somebody who would listen and somebody who cared.


1 Comment

Filed under Flash Fiction, Session X

One response to “White Wings

  1. marstead

    A modern morbid fairytale and fable. A little gem. Nice. Thanks.

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