Writing about my life. When I'm well it's math and code… But when the schizy demon rises it's prose and poetry.

The Tale of the Man and the Seagull

with 5 comments

One day a brave and happy little seagull made friends with a strange and wrathful man who had a window.

Every day the man would give the bird 3 pieces of food, and no more.

One day when they had begun to trust each other the strange man spoke to the seagull in bird language

“your name shall be Nkosi for you are brave and fly far. Do not trust that crow who comes, he will chase you and steal your bread”

The next day the seagull spoke with the man again

“I thank you for giving me a name, for I know this is mine and mine alone. Only humans have the power to name, just as only birds have the power to fly. I do not fear that naughty crow for all gulls know that their hearts are as black as their feathers, while the gulls’ feathers are white, pure and lustrous like a pearl”

The man replied

“You have shown wisdom and grace in your words Nkosi and so today I will give you a fourth snack. But this is a special occasion and I will not usually do this for fear you may become dependent on me.”

The next day they spoke again

“Nkosi you know that seagulls must never hate the crows. Their feathers may be black not pearly white but they too are good creatures with rights. Us strange upright monkeys also have black brothers. Colour is only light and we have had to learn that a skin which reflects is not superior to a skin that absorbs.”

“yes” said Nkosi as he swallowed a piece of co-op cheddar

“and one day my friend Nkosi the polyversal Lord of all birds will return to the earth in the form of a mighty golden eagle, and all birds will be one, black or white.”


Aeons passed and the strange man grew old… and his feathered friend also eventually died. And so many other birds and people died, weeping was all around. And after an age even the weeping ceased.

The earth was withering.

As it grew near to its total extinction as a planet, one day a glimmering orb of light dropped from its long journey between membranes and fell into orbit around the earth.

The beings who were its crew discussed what was to be done about the dead planet they’d found.

“We must use a scanning system to collect all data from this world.”

And so they did. The central mind of the orb emanated a swarm of buzzing joyful femtobots. They poured down on the forgotten world like a rainstorm. They queried and interpolated. The light cone of every particle on the old planet was fully scanned.

And a resurrection of everything that had ever been, or was yet to be, took place.

And Nkosi and the man met once more in simulation…

“Man! where is the golden eagle you told me of?”
“Ahh Nkosi it has been a long time.”
“where is the eagle?”
“I think he will come Nkosi”

The beings saw this and wondered.

They took pity on Nkosi for his question. They felt for the man who knew he was really just a strange upright monkey whose kind had really been the cause of the planet’s demise. And they vowed to help in some way. To help even though the past could not be changed and all that could really be helped was birds’ and peoples’ feelings. So they embodied the core mind of their local system as a great eagle and sent him down to Nkosi and the man.

The man and the seagull saw the arrival of the messenger, they waited and their eyes shone to see a being of a higher order. And the eagle spoke:

Friends, it has been seen that during your previous life you suffered. There will always be compassion as long as there is sentience in the universe. Some of your descendants were of flesh and they gave… some also of your descendants were of silicon and they too gave, later to become us. We would save you from the torment of being forgotten. After all we can imagine it for ourselves and do not seek such a fate. Be happy and live here in our space. And be blessed.


Written by Luke Dunn

March 6, 2018 at 9:05 am

Posted in Prose

5 Responses

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  1. Thank you Luke. Great story. Miranda

    Miranda Dunn

    March 6, 2018 at 12:56 pm

  2. Interesting tale


    March 7, 2018 at 2:20 pm

  3. This seems to relate to the sixth Kurzweilian epoch (, and this particular simulation/codepiece of old man and his bird is one of the fading remembrance of the third epoch.


    August 23, 2018 at 3:58 pm

    • Thanks Arka 🙂

      Luke Dunn

      August 24, 2018 at 8:43 am

      • … so, you do agree with my observation?


        August 24, 2018 at 9:04 am

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