Beautiful - This brevity feels just right, so the story itself doesn't outweigh the bird. Go, little bird, go! I hung on every poetic word of the voiceover.
“I think of her in that tree with the view of Arthur’s Seat, the Scottish winds blowing through it, her second attempt or third, if she fell again, and wonder if a bird learning to fly thinks itself an imposter.” Ohhhhhhh. This whole piece took my breath away, Eleanor. And the deft shape-shifting — how? 🥰
Dear Eleanor, thank you so much for this absolutely beautiful piece. This was from the prompt I sent it. You and Chloe Hope are both my favourite writers on here so this was just an honour. What you have written here has truly touched me x
Oh Anna Rose what an honour! Thank you for giving me the gift of it. It honestly wrote itself, I had to stay real quiet and still to catch it. A joy to work with you.
Such a beautiful thing to read, Eleanor. You became the fledgling bird in writing this. I love the references to the bird's instincts of the seasons and where it must go.
Exquisite, exquisite, exquisite. Always a joy to read your fiction, Eleanor — I especially love your approach to short stories. It is the reading equivalent of eating tapas.
This is such a beautiful idea ❤️
Beautiful.
Somehow, the image that came to mind as I read this came from my childhood reading: https://allisonsbookbag.wordpress.com/2014/09/09/are-you-my-mother-by-p-d-eastman/
How interesting. Someone else was talking about this book just the other day. Perhaps it seeped in....
The feathered and the flightless… exquisitely gentle words with that edge only you know how to perfect. Gorgeous Eleanor, every word!
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Sparkle and I just listened together. And we’ve both concluded that you’re very brilliant x
Tell Sparkle she was my inspiration.
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Simply astonishing.
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Beautiful - This brevity feels just right, so the story itself doesn't outweigh the bird. Go, little bird, go! I hung on every poetic word of the voiceover.
Thank you, Tara. Looking forward to yours. x
Just gorgeous, and the way you shifted between the perspectives of feathered creature and flightless human was movingly done.
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Gorgeous imagery!
Thanks. Very much looking forward to reading yours.
“I think of her in that tree with the view of Arthur’s Seat, the Scottish winds blowing through it, her second attempt or third, if she fell again, and wonder if a bird learning to fly thinks itself an imposter.” Ohhhhhhh. This whole piece took my breath away, Eleanor. And the deft shape-shifting — how? 🥰
🪶
Dear Eleanor, thank you so much for this absolutely beautiful piece. This was from the prompt I sent it. You and Chloe Hope are both my favourite writers on here so this was just an honour. What you have written here has truly touched me x
Oh Anna Rose what an honour! Thank you for giving me the gift of it. It honestly wrote itself, I had to stay real quiet and still to catch it. A joy to work with you.
Oh my. I’m imagining the event that inspired this and feeling how you just gave this person wings. 🪽
I've just read Julie's and I feel like she had the same experience as me, a piece that came out of its own, unlike anything I've written before.
Beautifully written, Eleanor! 💕
Thank you, Ali.
This is lovely and perfect.
Thank you,Ben. Out it came, and I stared and waited, and realised that was it there was no more so there we are.
Such a beautiful thing to read, Eleanor. You became the fledgling bird in writing this. I love the references to the bird's instincts of the seasons and where it must go.
Yes I was so swept up by that, by the deft shift that I went back and back trying to find where exactly that happened. It’s too well hidden. Amazing.
It felt like that...
Exquisite, exquisite, exquisite. Always a joy to read your fiction, Eleanor — I especially love your approach to short stories. It is the reading equivalent of eating tapas.
Loving that! Tapas. I'll take it ❤️