From: feath@agora.rain.com (Feather)
Subject: ...Feather's appearance (for real this time)
Organization: Open Communications Forum
Date: Thu, 10 Sep 1992 15:52:23 GMT

(This is my second try... my first attempt at posting did not work)
--------------
A small grey avian head with bright black eyes peers down from
above a rafter, and gazes with shy apprehension at the friendly
folk below.  The eyes blink, the beak opens to gulp a bit of air for
courage, and then the head pulls back into the darkness of the
rafters.
 
 A few seconds later, some fluttering is heard overhead.  Then
 down comes a small grey bird of an unknown specie, fluttering on
 short wings.  The bird awkwardly lands on the bar, and looks
 around shyly, wondering what happens next.
  
  Mike Callahan comes up to see what the little bird wants.  The
  small and grey one gazes up, UP, *UP* at the big Irishman -
  towering by comparison - with round eyes.  Mike looks back down
  at the small creature.  He is waiting for a drink order.  All the 
  little bird can do is say; "Uhhh..."  
   
   Big bar.
   Small bird.
   What a contrast.
    
    Mike smiles at the little one as if to reassure.  The gray bird tries
    to take comfort in the reassurance.  The small one finds the voice
    to finally order something.  "Uhhh, a Brandy Alexander, please. 
    The kind made with good ice cream.  Yes, and light on the
    brandy.  Is that OK?"
     
     Mike nods OK, and a few minutes later, there is a small glass of
     the sweet, frothy stuff on the bar.  The bird takes a sip, and
     smiles for the first time.  Then the gray one looks at the fireplace,
     looks at the glass, looks at the fireplace and sits there to ponder
     the situation.  Those small, grey wings were not meant to hold
     things.  Mike starts to offer help, but the small one gently refuses. 
      
      The bird gazes upon the glass which an expression that seems to
      be a mixture of intense concentration and some doubt.  The glass
      wobbles, lifts off of the bar for a half second, then drops.  The
      small one looks a bit surprised and tries again.  This time the glass
      rises and then stays there.  The bird smiles once more with some
      hope.  The glass then moves towards the fireplace.  The small
      gray bird takes wing in the same direction.  Both glass and bird
      land at the chalkline at the same time.  The glass has landed
      without spilling, which is more than we can say for the bird.
       
       The grey avain picks herself up, shakes herself off, then gazes in
       pure astonishment at the upright and unspilled glass.  ("Wow, it
       WORKED???")  
	
	The bright black eyes gaze at the glass, then at at all the friendly
	folk...
	 
	 The small one takes a deep breath, then timidly speaks.
	  
	  "Hello...
	   
	   I am Feather.  I have been lurking up there for several months and
	   seeing what a nice Place this is.  I figured maybe I could join.  
	    
	    Uh, I guess I should explain the floating glass... you see, I have no
	    hands, of course.  I didn't know what to do, so I have been trying
	    to learn some psychokinesis just to be able to handle drinks and small
	    objects.  This is the first time I have been able to do it at least 
	    fairly well, which is surprising to me.  I thought I'd never be able to."  
	     
	     Feather gazes upon the glass again and it raises slightly.  She
	     speaks:
	      
	      "I think I should, uh, make a toast... yeah, that's what I want to
	      do..."
	       
	       Feather puts her beak into the glass and gulps the rest of the
	       sweet liquid.  Then with some effort, she sends the glass into the
	       fireplace with at least enough force to crack it a bit against the 
	       back bricks.
		
		"TO THE PLACE!"
		 
		 Feather looks around, and feels a pang of shyness again... 
		  
		  Inner thoughts:
		  ("Maybe there could be a good place to perch in this Place?  The
		  back of a chair?  A table?  Someone's shoulder?")
		   
		   Feather waits to decide...


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