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Phoenix
The deserted desert was painted red and pink as the early morning rays glinted off the pebbly sand. Over the dunes the sunlight stretched its glistening fingers onto an oasis that was worn away with time and changing population. The scarce lively palms swayed in the nonexistent breeze that swept thought the dunes now and again, but not anymore. The tallest palm was alight with fire. Though the leafs stayed stiff and green, the basket of fire burned around a shriveled figure. Not a single whiff a smoke escaped as the figure shriveled more; the fire burned it down to become ashes. With a last burst of heat the fire died leaving a pile of ashes to lie on the plateau of green palm leaves. Minutes pass as the sun beats down on the blackened ash keeping the temperature a nice one hundred and forty five degrees. Suddenly the ash pile moves sending some gritty ash to be lost over the side of the palm top. The ash sifted down to the sandy bottom but was caught up in a breeze and mixed into the air to be blown to far off places the pile moved again sending more ash flying. A small head emerged from the pile, with its yellow-red eyes and its curved beak it could have been an eagle. It peered around at the now finally lit desert, almost as if it was confused. Using its beak, the eagle like creature shifted the ash down onto the surrounding palm leaves. The ash moves reluctantly giving up its captive. The small bird stretched its wings out, testing them to see how much power they held. With a few strong flaps of its wings the ash that had not fallen off was expelled into the already gritty, stuffy air. The eagle like creature in its ash covered body swooped down into the cool,clear water of the oasis. As the grimy ash washed away revealing the bright purple, scarlet and yellow of the birds feathers. With the ugliness of death washed away, the new born phoenix spread its newfound wings and takes off. Flying towards the sun and its new life of five hundred years. Or so this story goes.
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