“I’m looking for a star.
Not just any old star
A fallen one!
You do not understand?
Perhaps I should be more specific.
I’m looking for a fallen meteorite.”
-From Lucia’s Journal
She lived on the beloved island. The Isle of Quee. An island not far to the west. To the east being the Land of Raak.
She had blue feathers. Blue as the windy ocean. Shiny as the beautiful, treacherous stars.
A scrub jay she was. The only one left on the island. And she lived with the robins and pickleberry birds.
It was a village that she lived. Tiny as a sparrow. Even more so. And the life this scrub jay lived. Was as tiny as the village itself. So very small.