Ah to be a fish under the sea. I would give my left wing for it.
Oh I knew they didn’t have it easy, I had the sky, all for me, at least most of the time.
But they looked so beautiful and happy, seemingly swimming with not a care in the world. Who wouldn’t want that. I had ventured near that big blue expense more than once, but its water did nothing for me except make me sick. I had even landed on one of these giant fishes once. What did the humans call it? Oh, yes, a whale. But not the ones that could crunch me in one bite, no, I wasn’t that silly.
What would it feel like, the water running along my scales, allowing me to sift the oxygen through my gills and breathe. Kind of. Would I look the same, whites, and browns, and oranges, or would I be shiny golds or blue or purples?
As I soared into the sky, I looped around, going back down for a closer look. Oh the fun ones were jumping and my sister gulls were rushing through the sky after, what was it, a boat. Fishing boat. Silly gulls, I bet they wish, they too, were fishes, and in despair, they ate them instead.
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