Perched and waiting for my chance to cut in. I have the patience of a saint when I’m eyeing a potential dance partner, angling for a chance to appear on the scene. Ah, I love to see their limbs glide and circle. They glide and circle so easily, almost weightless, like they’re in rhythm with the prompting of the fluttering breezes. Their bodies sway back and forth, and they tempt me. How they tempt me! Oh, the pleasures of the flesh –
That sumptuous promise of skin that’s so revealing; then the head-first slide into delight; that tingling moreishness… It still makes the creaky bones of this old buzzard sing out!
True, when I was younger I chased after it more. But then it’s also true that we had more of these dances back then than we do today. They went a bit out of fashion, I can’t say why. Luckily, they never disappear entirely. Oh, no. They go on at random, here and there, dotted about. New dancers still get the chance to go and haul themselves up into the limelight, demanding attention. And I always still give them my best.
What else would I do? The constant whirr of the buzzing music, ah, I love it! This is what life’s all about! You’ll never convince me otherwise. No, sir. So, I perch and I carefully weigh-up this latest spinning dancer I’ve had my eye on for a while. It’s so grand a spectacle to watch that same old dance happen, again and again. Maybe it’s not strictly elegant, true. And it’s not as if there’s a long queue of eager partners all rushing to get an invite. But it’s what makes the world go round. And so I gather up my energies, my appetites and instincts. I feel my heart race about and I’m even drooling, I don’t deny it. All this waiting’s made me frantic, I want to have it done and dusted. So, I preen myself a bit and I’m all set to start making my move.
And yet…
On the hilltop yonder there’s another black branch where I could just as easily perch. And underneath that black branch I see there’s another lynch mob getting busy. Bless their little hearts, they’re arranging another dance! And the specimen they’re stringing up, who’s soon to go cavorting about in mid-air, looks altogether plumper than this other dancing partner I’ve earmarked here.
So, should I flap over in that direction and stake my claim to cutting in? Or should I start tucking in where I am? Slurp up the burst eyes before the buzzing flies spoil the juiciest bits completely?
###
This story was written in response to the yeah write challenge #172 – This week’s optional prompt is: Should I Stay or Should I Go? The Clash reference brought to mind the band’s record covers, particularly Give Em Enough Rope, which directed the story. The other stories in the link-up can be read by clicking on the image below.
Sweet FA by Blake 
So the protagonist is a carrion crow? The few first line told me this guy wasn’t human. You had me guessing the whole way through. Another original piece. Good job!
Yeah I see him as a crow/vulture/buzzard type of character. And I’m impressed you saw he wasn’t human so early, though I’m pleased it still kept you guessing. Btw when is BookWorm returning to the blogging world?
I came back late yesterday evening so I’m officially back for a while as of today but I’m leaving in little more than a week. (DragonSpark directed me to this comment so I could answer, I have yet to check what happened at yeahwrite while I was away).
That was horrible! It started off so nice! I can’t deny there was a beautiful transition though, by the time I realised what was happening it was already too late to stop reading. I too was fooled, I thought the narrator was an old man.
Oh yeah write has changed immeasurably since your day – you won’t recognise the place! Welcome back (albeit briefly) 🙂
True, the story was fairly horrible. Lynching’s a horrible business. Frankly, the crow’s the innocent party, hey.
Great work. Love it.
Totally did NOT see that coming – which made it that much more disturbing when it did! [shudder ]
Bless their little hearts ..
Really I can’t say enough about how well this is written ….
Hmm well-written…
I just noticed a typo you were probably too polite to mention – so many uses of “there,” “their” and “they’re” in quick succession it just got confusing. Poxy English language 🙂
Saw a great joke online:
How do you comfort a grammar nerd?
Hold them gently and say, “there, their, they’re….”
🙂
English is so quirky isn’t it?
Aah that’s so soothing, I feel much better now. Thanks! 😀
😉
This was perfect. You sucked me in from the start and kept me clear to the last line. Fantastic!
That’s nice to hear, especially when the story is one of these slightly tricksy, false perspective pieces 🙂
Fooled me! I thought the narrator was a lecherous old guy!! Loved that it turned out to be a crow, parched and waiting to dine on a dancer!! Good inspiration with The Clash album cover!! TiV
Oh there are already more than enough lecherous old guys online, surely?? 🙂
Oho! So clever. I was trying to determine gender, wen little by little I began to realize where you were going. A crow, often called war birds, sizing up a meal. This is just brilliant. You let on at exactly the right pace. Love it. 🙂
Oh that’s good. This is the first prompt I’ve written that came in way below the word limit, but the rhythm of it just felt right, so I left it. Glad to hear that the pacing succeeded 🙂