wind-up bird

Nonethless, as a voiceless wind-up bird unable to wind the world's spring, I decided to go flying through the summer sky - which turned out to be fairly easy. Once you were up, all you had to do was flap your wings at the right angle to adjust direction and altitude. My body mastered the art in a moment and sent me flying effortlessly wherever I wanted to go. I looked at the world from the wind-up bird's vantage point. Whenever i had had enough flying, I would land on a branch and peer through the green leaves at rooftops and roads. I watched people moving over the ground, carrying on the functions of life. Unfortunately, though, I could not see my own body. This was because I had never once seen the wind-up bird and had no idea what it looked like.

For a long time - how long could it have been? - I remained the wind-up bird. But being the wind-up bird never got me anywhere. The flying part was fun, of course, but I couldn't go on having fun for ever. There was something I had to accomplish down here in the darkness at the bottom of the well. I stopped being the wind-up bird and returned to being myself.

 

(Haruki Murakami - excerpt from The Wind-up Bird Chronicle)

Done