A little bit of flash - The Bluebird

This is a comp I set - using something visual as inspiration. You can see the variety of stories and what I chose as a winner, here. I couldn't resist writing something myself...

Every Firstday, I send the price of a ticket to the Teatr Fratang. Every Tenthday, I watch the performance, as I have done every mooncycle since the Bluebird arrived.

This Tenthday, like always, I leave the cheap floor seats behind. As the seating rises in height, so too does its price; I can afford to be high. I settle into my usual place, a skyseat in the very centre of the row. The view here is astounding – you can almost reach out and touch The Bluebird as she flies past.

When she steps onto the launching platform, there is a murmur of excitement. Blue-green feathers waft gently around her face, teased by the heat rising from the bodies beneath. Gas lamps add a mellow sheen to her golden bodysuit.

She glances over her shoulder, knowing exactly where I will be. Our eyes lock.

Ungrateful bitch.

To think I was once besotted with her flawless beauty and exquisite performance.

‘My art is for all to enjoy.’ That is what she dared to tell me when she refused the rare blue silk I offered her - my last, desperate attempt to win her over. Well, if I can’t buy her for my own private entertainment…

The Bluebird steps to the edge of the platform and stretches out her arms, readying herself for the first leap.

My eyes drift upwards. To the ceiling, where the ropes and ribbons so integral to her performance, are secured.

Well, all except one.