Title: Chickadee
Author:
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cuddlymicch Brief Introduction: The fanfiction was written based on "Little Bird \u0026lt;3
Marguerite and David are two guys who living in Berlin in 1940. She is French and fights for his ideals, he was born from a mixed marriage, and is not afraid of death. Both have a dream since I was chasing children find the Chickadee. Number
Chapters: 1
Genre: General , Melancholy, Song-fic, Introspective
Rating: Orange
Warnings: Flashfic, One shot,
Complete: Yes
[Posted on
] Chickadee
Little bird, little bird fly through my window,
and find molasses candy,
fly through my window my sugar lump,
and find molasses candy.
and find molasses candy,
fly through my window my sugar lump,
and find molasses candy.
-Tell me another one of your stories, Marguerite.
The sky was gray, even though no cloud seemed to have plans to cover this morning.
was curious, thought David, as the color blue that was on a sunny day it disappeared, almost without reason, as soon as something went wrong.
He stood there, the sky, attentive and always ready to hide from the view of some potential danger.
Here, the sky was so in Berlin.
A sovereign, a deity who could reign over the whole world but for an absurd fear of life stood there, watching and hoping to be ignored.
-Marguerite, sing for me.
-What should I sing, David?
The boy smiled, squinting for a moment, his blue eyes. Moved as soon as the straw-colored hair, hiding her face in red cloth of her dress to Marguerite. In his shirt pocket, the gold watch his father ticked insistently. Following the rhythm of the hands, the girl began to sing.
-Chickadee, chickadee fly through my window, chickadee chickadee fly through my window ...
-Me singing still the Isabel you know?
David stroked his face with his thin fingers, a pianist, following the contours of the cheeks and neck, fingering the silver chain that carried hidden under his vest. With the tip of the index examined the edges of his jacket, going several times those of star stuff that his mother had sewn. A year had passed since he had been forced to wear it for the first time, but, nevertheless, had always raised with pride. Besides
Marguerite, walk tall, because what I wore embroidered on the chest was part of him that never would have been ashamed to be.
-When we come back to look for the Chickadee? First-
than you think, David.
The doorbell rang, and its ringing was in the air for several minutes, while Marguerite got up to go to the door.
A pat on the shoulder, was all she had with her before she disappeared behind the curtains of the room overlooking the garden.
heard only one shot, then the quiet footsteps, muffled noises, sighs, whispers, the floorboards that creaked, the curtain that marked a departure, the grass of the courtyard being trampled by the boots.
-Chickadee, chickadee fly through my window ...
The verses of that song they had learned as a child and no longer had forgotten them, even when he started attending the university.
-Captain, here's another one!
Another shot.
Suddenly, he began to feel cold. His blue eyes then turned to the sky, inert, went into hiding under that coat gray that seemed to have dozed off.
With the only ray of sunshine that lit up that morning in Berlin, a nightingale perched on the branch of the peach tree, chirping the song just before she sang Marguerite.
Who knows a bird?
I do,
What does a chickadee chickadee to say?
I do,
What does a chickadee chickadee to say?
