Flying Through the Dust

Inspired by this incredible picture. Thinking of extending it.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mytripsmypics/1428707479/

He’d wanted to fly for as long as he could remember. It was a miracle then, when we found that bird’s feather, jet black, just like his curls. He tucked it in, admired it in a pool of water, grin framed by a rusty bucket. And then he ran through the village, arms spread wide and calling like the birds he’d heard on the savanna, throaty and wild, a savage beast of bird and sky. He ignored the dust puffing up from each footfall, a reminder that he was still on the ground.
Most of the people didn’t even give him a passing glance; he met eyes only with Dayo, his mother’s friend, who stopped in her work, smiled at him and shook her head. He continued with his calls of savagery, ignoring all the other little ones who tried to join in. He was much too high in the sky to actually hear them. He ran and hopped and skipped and flew, and was stopped only by a hand clamping down on his outstretched arm. He came to an abrupt stop.
“Httz! What do you think you’re doing, causing all this noise?” His mother’s voice came a familiar rebuke, one that he wasn’t very interested in. He tried to squirm out of her firm grasp to no avail.
“I’m a bird, mama.”
“A bird?”
“Yes, can’t you see my feathers?” He pointed meaningfully up at the feather with his free arm, tucked back in his hair. His hands searched for it among his curls, only to find that his run had left it precariously close to falling out. He adjusted it and gently pat it to reassure himself that it was secure.
“Ahh, I do now. But you know, birds are not always so noisy. In fact, they must be quiet sometimes, in order to catch their food.”
“Yes, but I’m a noisy bird!”
She laughed, melodic and deep. He smiled in return; his mother’s laugh was a nice thing.
“I can hear. You are quite a noisy bird.” Her grip dramatically softened, and a moment later she released his arm, which he gratefully took back. “Well, my noisy little bird, if anyone asks you to stop being so noisy, perhaps you could practice being silent for when you hunt later?”
“Yes, mama.”
She smiled again and ruffled his thick hair. The feather fell out, and he hurriedly scooped it back up and replaced it. She laughed shortly, and then he was off, arms wide and throat calling.

So I know there isn't really a super awesome conflict or structure to the story- I'm thinking of making it more. But I like it all the same.

Thanks for reading.

Yeah, so there's no conflict so far or anything...but I loved it! Only one quick grammatical thing:

And then he’d run through the village,

It should read "and then he ran through the village."

The end!

I know this wasn't very helpful, but...I just liked it!

~Blue

Hey, here to review. Okay, so you got this by being inspired by the photo, right? I need to ask you if you think you really portrayed what's in the photo. The only problem is that everybody has different interpretations of the photo. I would believe we have the same interpretation of the photo, a boy playing at being a bird.

I guess if you really want to make this 'better', the best thing is to get a stronger sense of Geography. That picture is of a place in South-Western Oceania. Is that what you had in mind. Or were you thinking of the dusty sunset lit plains of Africa? This really helps in the imagery you get.

If you feel you want to put more emotion in it, you could always do it from the POV of the mother. A technique of some writers seems to be using other people to explain an MC. Money makes money. If you were to do it in first person, you could have a stronger assertion of the geography (African women, I would say, speaking in English either speak in very British English whilst still in their thick native accents, or very limited English, borrowing words and mixing up several. it is your decision). This can help give us a sense of time as well.

Finally, you did a great job. Don't fret too much over it. This was a great piece. Great photograph too.

Hero out,

Hullo!

First I'll say a few little nit-picky things, then I'll get to more general points.

He’d wanted to fly for as long as he could remember.

I would love to see a bit more elaboration here. Why did he always want to fly? That's not such a hard question (most humans want to fly, I think) but I think if you talked a little about what attracts him personally to flying (the freedom? the joy? the speed? the power?) it would go a long way in introducing his character. Also, has he tried flying (literally) before? Has he tried jumping off something, only to be disappointed (and maybe bruised) to find that flapping his arms doesn't help? I'd just like a bit more fleshing-out of this line.

His mother’s voice came a familiar rebuke, one that he wasn’t very interested in.

Do you mean "...came as a familiar rebuke..."?

“Yes, but I’m a noisy bird!”

Aw! This part was adorable -- and very little-kid-ish, I think. I can really imagine a kid saying that. :)

She laughed shortly, and then he was off, arms wide and throat calling.

Okay, this is completely up to you, but I don't like this as a last line. I think the line before it would be a much more satisfying conclusion. I think I'm mostly saying this because if the mother laughs again it feels a little too... happy. I know it's a happy story, but it almost feels a bit cheesy. I would rather see her last gesture be a smile -- it's much more mysterious, and it can mean a lot more things. Also, I think it is a more powerful ending to have him returning the feather to his hair, because we know he will probably go off warbling and running around so I don't think it's necessary to tell us that he does. I'd much rather see his last gesture be replacing the feather to his hair. But, of course, I'm not the author and I really have no place to tell you how to end your story. :)

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Overall, this was really sweet! It's pretty short, and like you say there isn't much conflict, but I think that's fine. A story like this, which is really more a scene than a story, doesn't need conflict. It's more about establishing characters and conjuring images. Along those lines, I think the boy's character could be fleshed out a lot more with more description of his feelings, as I was saying about the opening line. I know the story is told from an onlooking perspective, but I would still love to get glimpses of what he is feeling. Is he soaring smoothly through a clear sky, oblivious to the ground below him? Is he in a flock, cheering on and chattering with his friends? Is he swooping low over canyons and dodging tree-branches?

I agree with TheNewHero: some imagery about the setting would be nice. But! I don't think it's necessarily needed. As I see it, there are sort of two possible paths this story could take. One would be to forget about describing the setting and focus more on the world inside the kid's head. Give us really colorful, tangible projections of his imagination that pop out of the page and next to no description of the "real" world, and we will want to be that bird, too. We will want to escape the boring reality and go back to that fabulous imaginary place. I guess that's sort of an "internal" approach, since the focus would be inside the kid's head. The other path would be to take a more "external" approach. Leave the description of his thoughts as minimal as it is now, but add more description of the "real" world. Does the kid look kind of stupid traipsing around like that? Do the adults around him all laugh like Dayo does, or are some of them cross at him for kicking up dust onto them or making too much noise?

Just some things to think about. I like the sort of proverbial feel to the story, and I think you did very well writing off a photo (not to mention that that's one great photo!).

Hope this helps. Please don't hesitate to PM me if I was unclear about anything.

a