I saw a dead bird on the stairs yesterday. Or maybe the day before; I can't be sure. The body laid was already unrecognizable when I first saw it. Which leaves the matter doubtful; it could have been anywhen.
Dead bodies do not speak. The yellowish string-like figure seemed to be the only thing to indicate that the fragments once belonged to a winged creature. The feathers that lay beneath swarms of ants seemed unused but simultaneously, seemed wet. To my surprise, there was no external flow of liquid; and if it were not for the still-vivid color of its heart, it was probable that I would not have succeeded in identifying the object as a bird body.
I tried to imagine - what life this creature had lived. Unfortunately, this was a rather difficult task, considering that what lay in front of me mostly resembled hay and portions of autumn leaves and the rest of the world was so peaceful, under the calm rays of the sun. I came to a nihilistic conclusion - that it - like any organism - succumb to become part of nature itself. I could not attribute more.
Death is indeed powerful - it consumes all, leaving nothing behind. They say it is what makes life valued, but if all are to be forgotten, is there meaning in creation? Certainly, procedures are important but if its destiny is already chosen, what is the purpose of all the metabolism?
I was curiouser and curiouser, but could not give a logical answer to persuade all.
Doubtful, I watch the ants carrying away the remnants of what once was free, that has been subdued to rich carbon nutrient, leaving an unexplained chronicle.
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