Flash Fiction #1 -- crane

Crane

            The crane waded serenely through the marsh, dipping its bill to snap small fish from the water.  He was indifferent to the man on the shore, who stood watching silently.

            “What is human pain, to a crane?” the man said aloud, his voice soft to avoid disturbing the bird.

            “What is one man’s pain, to another man?” his companion countered.  “It’s time to come in.”

            “What’s the rush?” he asked, curiosity stirring.

            The other man hesitated.  “We have a message from your father.” He said reluctantly.

            He turned at that, staring at his companion.  “From my father?” he repeated.  “What is the message?”

            “Father Toman has the letter,” the other man faltered.  “He wants to speak with you about it.”

            “Tell me what it says.”  There was a chill in his voice now, and a not of authority he rarely used.

            “My lord,” his companion bobbed his head.  “Your father has sent for you.  He is calling you home.”

            He blinked at the title, incorrect though it was.  He had not been addressed as such in all the years he’d lived here.  “Home,” he echoed, taking in the rest of it.

            The other man swallowed hard.  “You are to leave immediately.  The ship is still docked.  They’re loading supplies as we speak.”

            His eyes drifted back to the crane.  For a moment he wondered what it would be like to be that bird, to have no greater concern that catching enough fish to feed himself for the day.  He suppressed a sigh.

            “Very well,” he said, turning away from the water.  “I had best go speak with Father Toman, then.”