The Note (Incomplete stories)

Fluttering across the blue midday sky, its bright red colour shone beautifully against the fluffy clouds. Maria’s eyes were drawn to the abstract colour against the blue and white scenery, though, it was to be believed she was the only one that fateful day to see it. A thin string flowed gently, tied elegantly around the base of the balloon. Her gaze followed the thread as it slowly floated down from the heavens, where she spotted a rectangular piece of what she seemed to think was an antique newspaper article. It stayed tied to the end; the fine lace never threatening to unravel and loose it’s precious treasure.

Before she was 12, Ravens were messengers; letters were tied and delivered on their claws— until the famine came and every single one of them was hunted down for food.
But by the time she was 24, and a woman, the new generation of children knew ravens, only in books, folktales and songs sung by mothers as lullabies to crying infants.
Balloons had replaced ravens, but a red balloon was a very rare sight to behold, especially during that time of the year, when the rains had abandoned the clouds and the wolves began to hunt closer to the village.

The balloon was meant for her no doubt, but red meant it was a message that includes death but her family had died with the ravens during the famine, so she only wondered who had lost their lives.
It was the village daily, with no news that concerned her, until she flipped to the last page before she saw it. The announcement of her own death.

Younglan Louis