The man and the bird.
There was once a little boy, who was very bored. He didn't have any friends since he didn't like to play. He spent most of his days alone, at school or in his room. But one day, he found a book. It was very big, and very old. It was quite hard to read at first, but with the time, the boy started to understand more and more. The book taught him many things, things he'd never learn at school. It was all about a special craftsmanship, one that nobody had ever heard of. The boy studied, and studied. And once he thought he knew enough, he started crafting.
First he built a tiny skeleton, out of steel, that would hold the entire body, and never break. Then, he made muscles, out of gold, the metal bending around the shiny bones so the body could move. Then, he covered the whole body with a skin, made out of silk, that was so soft it could make any man's heart melt. Finally, he added a beak of ivory, and two diamond eyes. Satisfied, he looked down at the little being he had built. It was a shiny sparrow. The bird looked up to him, and jumped around on the table, chirping happily. The boy was filled with pride and joy: he finally had a companion. But he knew his job was only half way done. The little bird couldn't fly, as the boy hadn't made him any feathers. Those were the hardest and longest to craft, but the boy didn't lose his motivation.
Years passed. He had grown into a young adult and had a good job. But his days were grey. His job was boring, his family was boring, the town was grey and so was the sky. But the boy didn't care. He knew what awaited him each time he made it through another day. Each time he came back from work, each time he opened the door to his little apartment, each time, the bird was there, and greeted him with a cheerful chirp. And with that chirp, the world lightened up. The boy suddenly noticed the colours, the smells and the sounds, and he was filled with joy. He would leave his work behind, go to his table, and start crafting again. And every day, he would craft a new feather. Each one was unique, both in form and in colour. And each one was more beautiful than the last.
One day, he finally crafted the last feather. It was the most beautiful of all, so bright and shiny it was hard to look at. The boy decided to put her right on top of the bird's head, so one could see it from every side. He looked down at the bird, and the bird looked back at him. They both shared the same feeling, a joy so intense it seemed hard to keep in. The boy carefully took the bird in his hand, and carried him to the window. He opened it slowly, as if he wanted to remember his every movement. The bird spread his wings. With one flap, it was high in the sky. And as it flew, the skies seemed to part. Light spread, the town suddenly took colours the boy had never seen before, and, for the first time in his life, the boy felt the sunlight dancing over his skin. He felt warm. He felt happy. He swore to himself never to close that window ever again, and, with one last look at this beautiful new world, he went back to bed.
When he woke up the next morning, everything was silent. He looked at the walls, he looked at the ceiling…everything was grey. He stood up, slowly, and looked at the table where the bird usually waited for him. And right there, o the table, sat a big, fat, cat. The bird's body was between his fangs, unanimated. Overwhelmed by sudden emotions, the boy wanted to rush forward and grab the cat. But he had a hard time even making a single step forward. As he looked back at the cat, the table seemed way higher than usual. With great effort, he managed to raise his arms, but the cat jumped out of reach. Looking at his hands, the boy suddenly noticed how wrinkled and used they were. He wanted to run, but he was panting after only a few steps. The cat gave him a disdainful look. He chewed on the bird's body one last time, and dropped it on the floor before he jumped out of the open window. The boy fell to his knees, which creaked dangerously, and slowly crawled towards the body. He took it into his trembling hands, and pressed the little bird against his heart. Lying down, the boy closed his eyes. He could still hear the tiny heart beating. It was very fast at first, but then it gradually slowed down, until it finally matched his own. One-two, one-two…one-two…one…