Once upon a cosmic time, there was a settlement tucked in between a forest and the sea shore. No one in this village knew their village was an average size, as the people either stayed within the confines of the town forever, or they left and never returned.
Knowing only what they’ve known all along, the village people carried on building life as they knew best. Each new morning, they arose from their sleep, slipped on their robe and slippers and walked to stand in a single-file line at the bustling corner of the marketplace.
There, lines of vendors vied for their attention with shouts of “fresh mackerel!” or “the softest yarn in the land!” They’d pace alongside the lines holding the latest “guaranteed” beauty or strength serum. Each villager endured the folly with composure. For no one was there to buy the latest gadget or delicacy (that early in the morning at least). They were there for The Hand of Choices.
For in the far corner of the marketplace, resided a mysterious figure who had been there since the first settlers arrived. Shrouded within a dense mist, no one had ever laid eyes upon the figure. The only connection the people had with this entity was when a robed sleeve extended from the mist to hand each villager a sealed ivory envelope with their name etched upon it. Upon opening, each would find their choices for the day laid out for them.
It was proper protocol for villagers to wait until they were home to open and read the contents of their envelope. After all, some choices were embarassing, others wildly more desireable than others. But mostly, they were disapointing and everyone preferred to deal with this meloncholy in private.
With their choices revealed and their decisions brewing, the villagers sighed in relief or grumbled in lament over their bestowed choices. The envelope was stashed into apron pouches, nap sacks, and trouser pockets as everyone parted their separate ways.
On a day that was seemingly like all others, a hummingbird hovered over a balcony flower vine where an elderly man had just returned from the marketplace and was sipping his morning coffee.
“Oh, look at you, pretty little bird, you,” the old man said admiring the colorful sheen on the bird’s feathers.
The hummingbird dipped and rose again in what seemed to be a flying curtsey.
“You have the life I tell you,” the old man bellowed. “You are free to fly anywhere you wish in the world, and explore any part of it for as long as your heart desires.”
The hummingbird backed away from his flower for a moment visibly looking puzzled by what the man had said. “But sir,” the bird replied, “you, too, are free to walk anywhere you wish in the world to explore yourself”.
The old man scowled then shook his head left then right. “No, I’m afraid that’s not true. That’s just plain ignorance on your part,” he huffed. He tapped the handle of the cane resting on the arm of his chair. “See this right here? Things don’t work as easily for us as they do for you.”
The hummingbird felt a bit guilty for bringing adventure up to a man who was in no shape for exploration.
The man took another sip of coffee with his frail, shaking hand then slowly sat the cup down on the table. “We have to abide by the choices we are given each day – and this is a result of the choices I was allotted. I was never given the choice to travel. I’ve been here my whole life.”
The hummingbird felt quite sad to hear this. He himself, had just traveled from a vibrant jungle and was soon to head to another coastal town brimming with flower gardens he had heard others in his migration mention.
“Would you like for me to tell you about my own adventures, sir?” the hummingbird offered.
“Not today,” the old man said. “I’ve got to get to my choices ,” he said as he grabbed the envelope from underneath his saucer plate.
“I tell you what though, you enjoy your adventures today,” the man said looking at the hovering bird eye to eye. “If I were young, strong and able like you, there’d be no stopping me. If I could do it all over again, to hell with The Hand of Choices. I’d make a break for it. I don’t know what’s out there, but it’s got to be better than this,” the old man lowered his eyes and stared at the envelope in his hand.
The hummingbird wished to encourage the old man and cheerfully countered, “Oh, but sir, you can choose from the grandest and most magical of possibilities. Even, I, a tiny hummingbird, choose to fly even though my wing structure does not support my weight. In fact, all of my kind choose to fly anyway! I have every confidence you could do the same.”
The old man’s scowl resurfaced. “You have such a limited perception of real life. I do the very best with the choices allotted to me. I don’t see you in the line each morning getting your said ‘choices’. That’s because you were born able to fly and your parents were born able to fly and so on and so forth,” the old man brewed. “Your choice to fly my foot — my bad foot, that is. Be gone with you!” He flicked his hand towards the flower vine and shooed the hummingbird away.
The old man rose to his feet with a continuous shake and shuffled inside along with his cane, letting his slippers drag a bit on the wooden floor.
He looked back out the window and took a deep sigh. Then, he opened his choices.
The next morning, the hummingbird arrived back at the balcony flower vine to apologize to the old man, feeling quite horrible his encouragement had taken such a drastic turn.
To his surprise, a young man was having coffee on the balcony table.
“Hello there,” the hummingbird chimed, “Could you please tell me where the gentleman of the house is?”
“Oh, it’s you! Hi there friend!” the young man exclaimed.
The hummingbird felt puzzled once again, but before he could ask another question, the young man blurted:
“I finally caught myself a break you see? I was given the choice to be young again!” He jumped up from the table and did a silly dance. His legs moved like jelly and his arms swayed while his fingers snapped in the air. “Isn’t it fantastic? I’m young again!”
The hummingbird dipped up and down and circled around with a dance of its own. “Oh sir, this is most wonderful! I am ever so delighted for you!”
“Why thank you,” the young man said, coming back to a seat from his dance, the smile on his face widening.
A grand idea fell upon the hummingbird. “Sir, why don’t you come with me on my next adventure? I am going to a neighboring coastal town where the flowers are the size of melons and the air smells of lavender. I’m told people feast on coconuts and wild berries as native birds sing throughout the day.”
The young man chuckled. “Oh, to be a bird,” he said, grabbing the envelope from the table. “You’re a lucky one, you. Endlessly basking in a life full of pleasure seeking…always having everything you need wherever you go.”
The young man waved the opened envelope at the hummingbird. “But unfortunately, that just wasn’t one of my choices today.”
If you enjoyed this tale, it will join a collection of others in “Anthem Z & The Lost Stories” in 2025. Join the bookshelf list to be reminded when it is released.