The world seemed tiny from Owlet’s snow covered nest made of amethyst orchids. She peered below as the Great Light freed itself from the lake’s bosom. Amongst the quaffing elk and swimming birds was a pinkish creature struggling to paddle atop a broken tree.
“Mother,” Owlet asked Owl, “what creature is that?”
Owl leered. “That is Man.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It can no longer breathe water,” Owl recounted, “so it avoids the Lake’s icy depths.”
“Why doesn’t it fly?”
“It traded that too.”
Owlet leaned her little head on the snowy nest’s rim and watched Man wade down stream, grieved by the creature’s plight.