Story first, tale afterwards.
---
Tale:
This was a short story I wrote after I found out that one of my teachers had been using some of my work in his own writer's portfolio. Unfortunately, I was not in a position to do anything about it at the time, so I wrote this to vent my frustrations on the situation (and desire that he would be found out).
Once upon a time there was a Crow.
The Crow thought himself the most beloved and most beautiful of all the birds because his song was melodious and sweet and his shining feathers were a brilliant sky blue and held the colours of the rainbow.
And many animals did come to listen to the crow's song, for they had heard that the crow's song was the fairest in the land.
Some of the animals adored the crow's song, and heaped praises upon praises on the crow.
Some of the animals did not like the crow's song, but the crow paid them no heed as he had his admirers.
Eventually, the compliments of the crow's admirers went to the Crow's head, and he became self-centred and vain.
He chased down the animals who did not like his song and forced them to listen.
He pecked at the eyes of the animals who did not given him enough praise.
He shat upon those who had once liked his song but had grown tired of the Crow's endless singing.
The Crow also had a nasty habit of talking badly about the people who did not like to listen to his song.
Eventually, his bad speech went too far and he spoke badly against the Thunderbird.
Word got to the Thunderbird's ears and enraged, Thunderbird seized Crow and tore out his throat, rendering him only able to croak.
Once free, the vain Crow tried to sing for his admirers, dancing in the light as his beautiful feathers caught the sunlight. But when they found out that Crow could no longer sing, they left him in droves.
The vain little Crow hopped about in his isolation and tried to sing like he had once done, but all he could do was croak.
Angrily, he flew up to Thunderbird, intent on pecking out the great bird's eyes.
But Thunderbird had seen the stupid little bird coming and threw down a single well-aimed bolt of lightning that hit the angry little Crow in the back.
Darkened by the bolt, Crow became ashamed of the loss of his bright colours, and hid in the wood, bemoaning his fate.
The Crow thought himself the most beloved and most beautiful of all the birds because his song was melodious and sweet and his shining feathers were a brilliant sky blue and held the colours of the rainbow.
And many animals did come to listen to the crow's song, for they had heard that the crow's song was the fairest in the land.
Some of the animals adored the crow's song, and heaped praises upon praises on the crow.
Some of the animals did not like the crow's song, but the crow paid them no heed as he had his admirers.
Eventually, the compliments of the crow's admirers went to the Crow's head, and he became self-centred and vain.
He chased down the animals who did not like his song and forced them to listen.
He pecked at the eyes of the animals who did not given him enough praise.
He shat upon those who had once liked his song but had grown tired of the Crow's endless singing.
The Crow also had a nasty habit of talking badly about the people who did not like to listen to his song.
Eventually, his bad speech went too far and he spoke badly against the Thunderbird.
Word got to the Thunderbird's ears and enraged, Thunderbird seized Crow and tore out his throat, rendering him only able to croak.
Once free, the vain Crow tried to sing for his admirers, dancing in the light as his beautiful feathers caught the sunlight. But when they found out that Crow could no longer sing, they left him in droves.
The vain little Crow hopped about in his isolation and tried to sing like he had once done, but all he could do was croak.
Angrily, he flew up to Thunderbird, intent on pecking out the great bird's eyes.
But Thunderbird had seen the stupid little bird coming and threw down a single well-aimed bolt of lightning that hit the angry little Crow in the back.
Darkened by the bolt, Crow became ashamed of the loss of his bright colours, and hid in the wood, bemoaning his fate.
---
Tale:
This was a short story I wrote after I found out that one of my teachers had been using some of my work in his own writer's portfolio. Unfortunately, I was not in a position to do anything about it at the time, so I wrote this to vent my frustrations on the situation (and desire that he would be found out).
yikes... the tale behind this makes me pretty disgusted for you. i'm so sorry that happened.
what a scumbag. makes me wonder if he got into his teaching position on his own merits or not.
really nice piece of writing though! i love aesop style fables and the narrative flows well.
what a scumbag. makes me wonder if he got into his teaching position on his own merits or not.
really nice piece of writing though! i love aesop style fables and the narrative flows well.
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