My literature teacher at school wanted us to write a short story with the title of "A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings" before we actually read the real short story and here is my short story.
He was a short grey man who limped around on his cane. Sometimes he would disappear for days and come back. He loved talking to children and sharing stories of his journeys. I still remember seeing him come back from his last journey.
It was the last day of school I was ever going to attend and I celebrated by going to a nearby hill where I could find peace and quiet. Once I settled myself by a tree on the top of the hill, I kicked back and enjoyed the scenery. The clouds were dispersed among the skies and trees were swaying softly from side to side. Birds drifted with the wind majestically in the sky. There was one bird in particular that took my breath. Or at least, I thought it was a bird. It had largest wings I’ve ever seen and its wings were the most whitest shade of white anyone could ever see.
As the beautiful creature neared me, I realized it was the small old man from my village that told the kids stories. He started waving and I looked behind me to see who he was waving at. He started chuckling and stopped in front of me. “Hi there,” he said, with the most friendliest smile i have ever seen. Confused, I stayed seated on the ground, my eyes wide open looking at him. “H- hi…” I said. I realized how rude I was and stood up to shake his hand. “I’m Joe,” I said half confidently. It turned out, the old man’s name was August.
August told me stories of his first journeys. His adventures led him to meeting plenty of creatures that were now rare in our village. He encountered unicorns, pegasuses, and plenty more talking animals. August told me he recieved wings when he was around my age. Wings had shown him that the world is large and he is just a small part of it. Things he has seen broke his heart, warmed his heart, showed him love, and took the ones he loved. From his adventures, he had learned to have a big heart because he realized there was always space for love. Love was the reason he told so many people his story; he wanted to share his most amazing moments in life because it was worth sharing and hearing about.
Toward the end of our conversation, August mentioned something about passing “it” down. At first I was thinking he meant that he needed to pass the stories down to his children so the stories lasted forever. Turns out, August was talking about literally giving his wings to someone. He didn’t need someone who already had a big heart, but he wanted to find someone who could learn that love is more valuable than anything in life. At first, his words left a deep emptiness in my heart. “I want you to take my wings,” he said with a straight face. I didn’t know what to say. “I know you don’t know what to say, but trust me, you will have the time of your life,” he assured. I was so afraid of getting hurt, of losing the ones I love, and mostly afraid of the responsibility. August knew what I was feeling. Not because he was a mind reader because he wasn’t. He knew what I was feeling because years ago, an old man with enormous wings gave the role of “the old man” to August.
Even though August had once surprisingly received the wings, the wings came from his godfather. They had a close relationship and August was trusted with the responsibility. “Why me?” I asked August as he put his wings away.
“You’re the one,” August said calmly with a gentle smile.
“I don’t… understand. You just met me. How would I use wings?”
“I think I told you enough. You’re a smart young man. You can figure it out.” August said. August turned away and went down the hill, away from the village. I tried to run after him, but he faded away. After I stood in place, confused about where he went, I went home. That night as I looked in the mirror to shave, I noticed a pair of beautiful majestic white wings that made me look like an angel. Although the wings looked good on me, I couldn’t figure out why he gave me the wings. I didn’t even like talking to kids and I was a terrible story teller. I’ve never loved anyone and I hated the presence of people and animals. I was the opposite of August.
It’s been fifty-eight years since I received my wings. Today, I realized why he chose me. He did not choose me because I was the only one who could receive the wings, but because he could see in my eyes that I needed it. With all the hate I held in my life, he knew that I had room for love and joy. August wanted me to see the beauty of the world and how wonderful it can be to tell other people about the most amazing times I’ve ever had. I realized why August gave me wings today because today is the day I have to pass down the wings. I’m giving up my wings because my back aches from all the flying. I also realized that even though I have so much love for others, my heart aches from the losses I’ve experienced and I am too old to have such a broken heart. I wish not to find someone who is already grateful for everything and loving so much. I want to find someone whose heart I will change forever if I give these wings to him or her.
It was the last day of school I was ever going to attend and I celebrated by going to a nearby hill where I could find peace and quiet. Once I settled myself by a tree on the top of the hill, I kicked back and enjoyed the scenery. The clouds were dispersed among the skies and trees were swaying softly from side to side. Birds drifted with the wind majestically in the sky. There was one bird in particular that took my breath. Or at least, I thought it was a bird. It had largest wings I’ve ever seen and its wings were the most whitest shade of white anyone could ever see.
As the beautiful creature neared me, I realized it was the small old man from my village that told the kids stories. He started waving and I looked behind me to see who he was waving at. He started chuckling and stopped in front of me. “Hi there,” he said, with the most friendliest smile i have ever seen. Confused, I stayed seated on the ground, my eyes wide open looking at him. “H- hi…” I said. I realized how rude I was and stood up to shake his hand. “I’m Joe,” I said half confidently. It turned out, the old man’s name was August.
August told me stories of his first journeys. His adventures led him to meeting plenty of creatures that were now rare in our village. He encountered unicorns, pegasuses, and plenty more talking animals. August told me he recieved wings when he was around my age. Wings had shown him that the world is large and he is just a small part of it. Things he has seen broke his heart, warmed his heart, showed him love, and took the ones he loved. From his adventures, he had learned to have a big heart because he realized there was always space for love. Love was the reason he told so many people his story; he wanted to share his most amazing moments in life because it was worth sharing and hearing about.
Toward the end of our conversation, August mentioned something about passing “it” down. At first I was thinking he meant that he needed to pass the stories down to his children so the stories lasted forever. Turns out, August was talking about literally giving his wings to someone. He didn’t need someone who already had a big heart, but he wanted to find someone who could learn that love is more valuable than anything in life. At first, his words left a deep emptiness in my heart. “I want you to take my wings,” he said with a straight face. I didn’t know what to say. “I know you don’t know what to say, but trust me, you will have the time of your life,” he assured. I was so afraid of getting hurt, of losing the ones I love, and mostly afraid of the responsibility. August knew what I was feeling. Not because he was a mind reader because he wasn’t. He knew what I was feeling because years ago, an old man with enormous wings gave the role of “the old man” to August.
Even though August had once surprisingly received the wings, the wings came from his godfather. They had a close relationship and August was trusted with the responsibility. “Why me?” I asked August as he put his wings away.
“You’re the one,” August said calmly with a gentle smile.
“I don’t… understand. You just met me. How would I use wings?”
“I think I told you enough. You’re a smart young man. You can figure it out.” August said. August turned away and went down the hill, away from the village. I tried to run after him, but he faded away. After I stood in place, confused about where he went, I went home. That night as I looked in the mirror to shave, I noticed a pair of beautiful majestic white wings that made me look like an angel. Although the wings looked good on me, I couldn’t figure out why he gave me the wings. I didn’t even like talking to kids and I was a terrible story teller. I’ve never loved anyone and I hated the presence of people and animals. I was the opposite of August.
It’s been fifty-eight years since I received my wings. Today, I realized why he chose me. He did not choose me because I was the only one who could receive the wings, but because he could see in my eyes that I needed it. With all the hate I held in my life, he knew that I had room for love and joy. August wanted me to see the beauty of the world and how wonderful it can be to tell other people about the most amazing times I’ve ever had. I realized why August gave me wings today because today is the day I have to pass down the wings. I’m giving up my wings because my back aches from all the flying. I also realized that even though I have so much love for others, my heart aches from the losses I’ve experienced and I am too old to have such a broken heart. I wish not to find someone who is already grateful for everything and loving so much. I want to find someone whose heart I will change forever if I give these wings to him or her.