The Feather

Image courtesy Irina Krutova Unsplash.com
Image courtesy Irina Krutova Unsplash.com

The feather weighed more than my soul, but less than my heart. That had to be true, didn’t it? I carried my soul around daily and never felt it once. You wouldn’t have known it was there. My heart, however, now that weighed tonnes. It often plunged through my torso like a sinking treasure chest to nestle in the oceanic depths of my gut. Sometimes, my heart even pounded like a fist against my ribcage, bruising and battering. The thing dragged me down when I sat and resisted me when I stood. My soul did none of these things. Yes, the feather in my hand was more like my soul than my heart. That’s why I took the former with me when I left the latter behind.


Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

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