a magic candle of translocation and a girl who only meant to escape

Date: 5/30/2025

I raised the candle to the match, but faltered for a moment. I was very afraid, I thought, to spirit myself away into the world and leave you all behind. Afraid of what you’d think of me, this ungrateful cuckoo in your nest. But there comes a time in every bird’s life—when she has to clutch her feathers to her chest and escape into a cold and unknown world. I lowered the match, aiming for the coast. And when the candle met the flame, it’s smoke, blacker than ink, swallowed me whole and spit me out over the ocean. Magic is not an exact science. There are many things in this world for a bird to be afraid of. Orcas, for instance, can chase you miles across waves. To me the chase was almost never ending. And to the whale I was a plaything for the evening. Panthers will stalk you from betwixt the trees and ‘neath the mountains of stones that block your path towards home. I weaved through this maze for an eternity, until my legs nearly have out from under me. My arrival back to the nest fell on deaf ears, who cared not to hear of my travels nor my hardships. Mother Bird only raised her talons to clip my wings—should I ever think of leaving again. If I had not been too afraid to do as nature commands—afraid to unfurl my midnight wings and soar above where any creature could catch me—perhaps I would have succeeded in my plan. Perhaps I could have flown down the coast and built my nest anew. Next time—if there is a next time—I won’t light a candle. I will dive headfirst out of the tree.