AE0LIA

The transformation had taken place within Little Birds villa. There was an old country kitchen that she had wanted to begin exploring. Little Bird hadn’t been to that part of the house in a long while and wanting to discover a bit more about her boundary and surroundings, so she struck out on a large adventure for an esk of her stature. Little Bird left no cushion unturned or ball of dust alone along her way. She twirled through them and hopped over them, squishing them into small shapes to resemble bunnies and she was pleased to see them accompany her on her little journey. After entering the old kitchen, she noticed a small mouse scurrying across the countertops and decided that they knew where the exciting things were, and set out to follow them. She arrived on the countertop with a beautiful window view overlooking the Moon garden in the backyard, to find the mouse within a fascinating spice rack, with many different smells and aromas wafting from it. After she had examined all

An old spice rack stands quite alone in its kitchen, dust settles upon its moulds and in between the gitters of the doors. It is brown with hook like carvings settled onto the top, mesh cabinet doors decorate its front and within its cubby nestles many small jars filled of spice. Spiders begin spinning their webs and preparing them for the days catch and perfecting their sticky designs for juicy little bugs to stumble into. A mouse skitters by and investigates the cabinet. It sniffs each jar containing different spices that have been long dried out and ready for use. It tries opening a few and in its attempts, knocks a few over and watches them roll out of the rack. The salt has been spilled and each small rock has been scattered across the countertop in front of the spice rack. The racket has drawn the attention of a small, curious esk with large eyes and a thrill for discovering new objects and putting a name to them. She runs to the jar of spilled salt and kicks the small white

a brown, haughty esk strutting through dried out mudflats, pauses to listen his orange poppies dance the breeze rustles through his fur dust tickles his toes scorched grass, sizzling stones sweltering suffocation earth crackles and breaks he inhales deeply desert sounds surrounding him at peace, he exhales. his sweet surrender