The truth is, I lost the feather that I left behind and I can’t seem to forget about it. I know I should fly but why can’t I move, and I can’t stop thinking about it. It is long gone and I’m already gone so why do I still harp on it. Oh, maybe it’s because I can’t stop the course of actions that follow from it.
Darkness forced them away from the tasty soil and back to their elm tree for sleep. The sparrows felt fat and lazy. Just flying up to their branches took quite an effort. This frightened them.