Sunday, June 21, 2009



The morning dust roamed over the clouds as the light set a color of molten orange to the sky. All previous tints of dark peeled away as warmth took over. Small birds flowed into the atmosphere, feathers trailing in golden dust.

One certain grackle was snoring against the pavement. The sudden warmth of the light woke him from his dreams, which often consisted of donuts and sprinkles. After adjusting to the bright light, he brushed off the shiny sparkles that coated his feathers and set off behind the other birds. He had letters to deliver.

He was in charge of love letters to a certain Signor Ryf. Well, he was in charge of all love letters in general, but Signor Ryf was the only one who received any. Every day, a single letter addressed to him was sent, with no return address. He had never met Signor Ryf, and wondered why anyone would be so infatuated with the bird.

Once he arrived at Signor Ryf’s dwelling, he dropped the lone letter into the slot in the tree, listening as it dropped with a satisfying thunk. He flew straight home after that, and watched as all the other birds worked. He felt a little smug at the fact that he had such a small load. Walking outside, he rid his home of the soot that insisted on covering his possessions. He ruffled his feathers and sneezed from the dust that resulted.

And then the light crinkled and the dust disappeared. The grackle, suddenly overcome with drowsiness, fell to the floor and dreamed of donuts and sprinkles.

The next day, the light woke him up. Once again, he found the letter in his possession, and brushed the dust off in preparation for flight. As he watched a flurry of birds fly above, it occurred to him that he should try talking to them. Perhaps then his days wouldn’t be so dull. He noticed that dust was covering his feathers again. The grackle put down his letter to wipe the pesky things off when he noticed something strange. Golden dust poured out from the wrinkled envelope. Curious, he opened the letter, and the sky ripped apart.

And then the grackle watched his world unfold.
- - -
The grackle is Signor Ryf. He lives in a love letter. The golden dust is actually sand. The sand is time. The slot that he puts his letter in is dark inside. Therefore, the light disappears very suddenly. His world rewinds while its dark, so the letter is once again with the grackle, and the light is back. The other birds don’t exist, and are made of sand. Since he wipes the sand off himself before and after the dark appears, he still remembers everything. When the letter rips, the sand falls out, and so does time. So then his world unfolds. And he dreams of donuts because he dreams of what he can’t have(donuts and sprinkles don’t exist in his world). Why is he in a love letter? It’s just the way things are. There's my short story. I think it's the first one I've ever finished. So, how many synonyms of folding can you find? Also, the Ryf in Signor Ryf is actually a bad anagram of fry for cheese fry.


Devan Moss said...

Confused but amused (hey that rhymed),...still don't quite get the part about how he's both Signor Ryf and the Grackle(and whatever the shmuck is a Grackle?) and how the dark relates to the drop slot...makes me wanna write my own short story, albeit one that makes a little more sense

Indigo1928 said...

Well, Signor Ryf is that grackle. The grackle doesn't know that he's Signor Ryf. A grackle is a black bird that looks a little like a crow. Ok, there's light outside of the drop slot. There's no light in the drop slot. So, when the letter is dropped in there, the sky turns dark(just not very quickly).

laurapoet said...

I liked this story alot. I think it's actually better without the explanation though. It's true that the readers won't know about the grackle being Signor Ryf or about the dust as sand which is actually time or about the grackle living in the love letter. But I think it kind of gives a magical touch to it if you don't know what was going through the writers head when they were writing it. Without the explanation it lets the story stand on its own. It lets the reader decide what the dust was and it lets them wonder about it without asking things like "What? The Grackle was Signor Ryf? an so on and so forth. Still, great idea and a really good first short story. Keep up the good work!!