Chapter 13 - The Canary and its Petal

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Scott excitedly climbed into bed. His older brother scoffed and climbed to the top bunk, taking a book out from under his pillow. Syrene walked into the room, a soft smile on her face. She approached the brothers.

"Are you sure you don't want to listen to the story?" She climbed onto the first rung of the ladder to meet her oldest son.

"No. I have one of my own," Xornoth said, not looking up from his book.

"Suit yourself." Syrene climbed down and sat on the edge of Scott's bed. "Why don't you pick a book, sweetie?"

Scott beamed and turned to the bookshelf at the head of his bed. The five-year-old pulled out a thick storybook and gave it to his mother.

Syrene hummed softly flipping through the pages. "Here's an old story. The Canary and its Petal. Want to listen to that one?" Scott eagerly nodded in response.

A beautiful canary had built its nest in a tree that towered over a large poppy field. Three pale blue eggs with little brown speckles sat in the next, awaiting their parent's return.

The said parental canary landed next to a poppy. This one gleamed in the sun just like all the other perfect, vibrant poppies. But out of all the petals, one of the petals rested in the shade. This one had fallen from its flower. This once was wrinkled and ever so slightly torn. But even these small details made the little petal upset about itself. But why did it have to be this one? Why must it be this one that must be in the shade and looking ever so different from the others.

But this canary looked and the delicate petal and picked it up in its beak before flying back home. And the small delicate petal was added to the nest, becoming a part of a home. A home that would soon belong to four more beautiful little golden babies.

For the first time, in a long time, the petal felt like it belonged. Like it was a part of something bigger and important. And it was.

By that point, Scott had fallen asleep. Syrene smiled lovingly, kissing her younger son's head. Syrene got up to look at Xornoth. He closed his book and put it under his pillow.

"Night Xornoth," Syrene said, smiling.

Xornoth just scoffed. "That was a stupid story."

Syrene sighed softly. "Well, it's more metaphorical and symbolic, sweetie."

"Stupidly metaphorical."

"It isn't stupid Xor. You'll understand when you get older."

Xornoth rolled his eyes and turned on his side.

"Love you."

Syrene headed over to the doorway. She looked back at her two sons and sighed softly before turning off the light and closing the door behind her.