It Moved - Another Short Short Story

Ah yes, I remember now…

It moved, and I'm scared to touch it.

It is alive, and it knows I'm watching.

The warm light shimmers on its tiny wriggling body. I stare, slack-jawed at its details, adjusting Daddy's magnifying glass in my small hand, to get a better view. My big blue eyes follow the jagged edge of its little quivering broken wing, shining golden and translucent. I feel really awful you know, because to my right, about an arms length away in the furry brown carpet, is its other wing. I think I picked it up a bit too roughly and now it can't fly anymore. I'm sure It can still fly in circles though.

 

I think I am going to move it to where I can see it better. I'll take some of Mommy's writing paper here, and slide it under the little thing and carry it, slowly to the porch and into the sunshine. I am amazed at how brilliantly I can see every detail outside in the natural light.

I notice a bright spot of light in the view of the magnifying glass.

 

I have an idea… I have decided that I will have a 'Broadway Show' and the thing is my Broadway Star! I move the beam of white light over the thing and it really knows that it's on stage! It squirms and dances under the bright beam like a dancer in sequins. Then suddenly, a bright flash, and the thing is gone. There is just a fine black smudge and some steaming ash – I think it disappeared, it vanished clean away! It's not even under the paper!

So the thing wasn't a dancer after all, it was a magician!