Barn Owl

I am every small mammal’s worst fear. I am a raptor of the night, watching all nocturnal creatures from a distance. My beauty is deceiving. Soft, white, fringed feathers allow silence while I hunt. I hear and see all, picking up the faintest of sounds from high and low. No rodent is able to escape my deadly black eyes once they are fixated.
The bottom of my legs house razor-like talons which I use to snatch my innocent victims from the ground. Upon my round dish-like face sits a notoriously sharp beak, known to shred their bodies to pieces. I show them no mercy.
When the hunt of the night is over I return to my resting place. An eerie spot, in a dark corner of a barn is where I balance on high beams out of sight. I fear nothing. I am the hunter not the hunted. My outstretched wings are my last action before I repose and drift into dream.
My dreams are filled with views of open air above and dense green forests below. I soar through ancient trees, landing in a field of rodents. They cower and scurry in my regal presence. I clasp one in my steely grip. Its deafening shrieks are turned into sudden silence. Its heart beat once rapid, now fades as my talon tightens around its warm body. Life ebbs slowly from it like a tide returning to sea. As I devour the rodent, its crimson nectar, temporarily satiates my never-ending thirst.
After my fill, I fly back to my favourite place. I awake the next night in the barn I call home, where I am king and sleep above all who bow below me in fear. I set off on another nights hunt. I fear nothing as I am the hunter not the hunted.

By B Cran

This is Paradise

I awake to breathing in thick humid air. I wipe away perspiration built up on my forehead from a long hot night. Wrestling my way out of sheets that stick, I stretch groaning and attempt to make out the time lit up on the alarm clock next to me. The 6 o’clock sun peers brightly through parts of the window unprotected by curtain. I rub my eyes and push my hair back with one hand. It is nearly time to set off on our journey.

Packing the car is the easiest part. But the best part is the trip there. Windows down all the way, allowing a fresh breeze to brush past my face and through my hair. I know we have almost arrived. I can smell the ocean through the trees and bushes, which cover up the view of the white sandy beach behind it.

When we arrive we lay out our brightly coloured beach towels in a row. The sickly sweet stench of sunscreen enters my nostrils as I apply it vigorously over all exposed skin. The sand is like molten lava, as it burns the souls of my feet. I dash to reach the relief of the cool blue water beyond it. It is like ice splashing up against my skin, shocking all of the muscles in my body as they tense. As my body temperature adjusts I relax and let the calm ripples lap into belly as I look out to sea.

I take in a deep breath of salty air and close my eyes. The sound of gulls, waves crashing and people laughing fills my ears. With my eyes closed tight, I can feel the warmth of the sun on my eyelids. I whisper to myself, this is paradise.

By B Cran