Short Stories

by DeckuZora

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The Painter in the Sky

In the beginning, there was no water or land, only a great canvas and an old painter who lived in the sky. Because he had aged significantly, he often fumbled with his paints. He simply could not create the beautiful pictures he had once loved.

One day, deathly ill of the stillness in his brush, he sketched a few strange beings. These beings were ugly, balding, with pointy mouths, large eyes, and no digits for grasping brushes, but they did have ugly, gnarled, claws for feet. Rather than being disturbed with his creation, he decided he was rather taken with the strange beings, and got out his paints to color them. In his age, however, he clumsily dropped and spilled paint across his canvas. The globs of paint formed land and sea. Beasts formed and canopy’s spread their leafy branches.

The blue whale crawled from the blue paint on land and splashed to the larger stretch which became sea. A blotch of gray, black and white paint became proud wolf – immediately rushing up the gray mountains. The yellows, oranges and reds mixed together and out slithered a hissing snake to the jungle.

The painter, despite lacking intent, looked proudly at the accident. But then he realized the ugly creatures he had drawn were still colorless and bland, hovering in the expanse of canvas not yet painted. He turned to them and spoke in his quiet old voice.

“My strange friends, I have worked a miracle today, however, I have run out of my precious paints and cannot make you vibrant and beautiful. Would you like to help get your colors?”

“We would, we would,” their musical voices called from those strange pointed mouths. The painter smiled an old tired smile and picked up from his toolbox, thousands of little brushes. On each creature, he arranged these brushes across their bodies. Soon the creature's arms, faces, bodies and heads were covered by these soft brushes.
Finished, he sent them about the world to pick up his many colors. The strange creatures explored many places and soon the brushes were of many colors. However, a few colors were still missing. These were light blue, white, gray, black, yellow, orange and red. The creature decided first to head to the great expanse of blue – the sea.

The sea was wet and great waves crashed down upon them. The creatures were determined, however, and plunged in. those with webbed feet floated on the surface, but others began to drown. The webbed ones called for help but to no avail. It looked like the end for the strange beings until a gigantic eye rose from the waves. It was the blue whale.

Whale lifted the creatures from her sea and set them back on the beach. The creatures then explained their plight. Whale, benevolent, loving, kind and gentle, gladly gave up some of her color for the creatures, instead becoming a shade of blue-gray shale.

The next color was traced high into the mountains. The creatures could not climb though, miserably trying to scale the cliffs. In frustration, one creature desperately hopped, flapping her arms. The brushes on her body caught the air and pushed her upward, catching them all by surprise. They all flew and soared to much delight, reaching wolf at the top.

Proud Wolf listened attentively to the creatures. He admired their bravery to see him and said they could take all of his color, but asked his sons be spared from the bleaching. Thus, the White Mountain Wolf came to be.

Flying down the mountains, the creatures came to Jungle Forest and perched themselves in the trees to rest. They did not notice Sneaky Snake slithering towards their resting place. Not 'til Snake was upon them, and pounced, did the creatures spot her. Snake killed a young one and swallowed him whole.

The creatures panicked and tore Sneaky Snake to pieces with beak and talon. Thus they learned to fear snake and snake to fear them. Bitter enemies were they to be.

Finally finished collecting colors, the creatures went back to the painter in the sky. The painter smiled at his colorful creations.

“My beautiful friends, would you like to help me once more? I need a colorful sky, and your lovely brushes could paint it beautifully as I cannot. Will you help me once more?”

“Yes, yes, Painter in the Sky,” the creatures cried, and the painter held up a canvas. In this one, the red, orange and gray creatures flew across. This had become morning. Across the next canvas, splashes of white and sky blue. This became day, with the gentleness of Whale brilliantly splashed across. After, came red, yellow and orange evening. Even though Snake was fierce, her beautiful evening colors painted the sky. Gray and black with white dots became the last canvas the proud Wolf roams under: Night.

The Painter smiled at the creatures. Their job done, he set them free with these words: “My beautiful friends: forever paint the world with delightful colors for me. I name you birds.”

And to this day, the birds are feathered and beautiful, painting the earth and sky with their many brushes. Now purposeful, meaningful, and no longer gray and ugly are the birds. But the birds always remember their mortal enemy, the snake.