The Stakhanovite Eagle’s Perilous Flight

I share some more of my fiction today. Hope you enjoy.


An eagle soared through the mid-summer sky, it’s wings stroking the air effortlessly.


The radiant sun beat down on the ancient earth below the graceful flight of the eagle. Warm thermals allowing for a swift but smooth flight. It was almost too easy, though.


Suddenly, the clouds had been lying in ambush brewed up a dark, toxic concoction, billowing out black belching clouds. The forces of evil took over with a roar of thunder, bolts of lightening announcing the arrival to even the deafest of ears.


Despite the benevolent bashful winds that tore down maliciously at the now struggling eagle, it’s powerful wings did not cease to fight. Battered, but battling, the eagle was putting up an unrelenting challenge against the abominable clouds, who grew increasingly angrier at each wing beat. But, with each wingbeat, home was only one less wingbeat away for the Stakhanovite eagle.


The storm grew to its true height, for even the rain was fierce enough to drive the fishes deeper into their lakes and oceans for respite, for even they could not stand such a torrent. Winds bawled and bayed at the eagle, tormenting it to give up, but the eagle took no heed for it was too strong to give in. No matter the cost, that eagle was resolute in reaching its nest, to finally free itself of this storm. And, sure enough, its home tree that once seemed so far away, was only a matter of seconds away.


In one moment, the eagle rose steadily, before driving through and obliterating the stormy sky as it pounded down towards the nest, before gingerly placing itself down.



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