Sheeba looked up at the erange sky above-which seemed to glare down on her like an angry lady.Sheeba knew when the birds would fly back and the sky would be empty of life.Sheeba,though was afraid of that moment.It reminded her of the big house with it's white washed walls and old linen curtains,of it's burnt rotis and beds full of bugs.These memories haunted her on lonely nights with gloomy stars above and today was supposed to be one of them. The big house,though was not empty or for the matter of it not even supposed to be haunting.It was of cure,the place where sick people went to for doctors to attend them,and it had been so since the virus had hit the world.But for little children,who had very few in the world to love,who had hopes in their eyes and dreams in their hearts,the big house was a looming darkness of words not to be spoken of,of thoughts not to be had.Sheeba waited by the river a few more minuites.It had not been going well in her own house-since her own uncle had to be hurried to the doctors-Sheeba didnot understand but she had eyes and she saw,she had ears and she heard.Her uncle the giver of gifts the ruler of sun-shines and happiness was struggling for a catch of breadth,to remove forever the constant throb in his head.Sheeba waited for her familly to go by and then she took her little purse with it's non-existent belongings and ran to the riverside and now she was here.It was time the birds were flying back some many of them-like rolling marbles on a steel tray,like fleeting thoughts of a toddler's mind.Sheeba saw it all.The bigger birds hurried faster,with their elegant wings flopping against the unruly wind.The smaller ignored ones trailed behind,never lost their way.At that time a pitiful thought darted throuugh Sheeba's mind and she at that very instant wanted to be a bird of flight to transform her frail hands. and bony legs into those fluttering wings-racing through the air with head held high-for you see,these things Sheeba never really experienced in her own life-perhaps she never really did try hard enough or so the world said.Thud!-something fell on the coarse sand and Sheeba swung back to see what it was!One of them was on the floor.A small soft lump of white.It had fallen like a star from the sky. Sheeba ran forward and picked it up. in her hand.The bird was a small one.One of it's wings was injured,Sheeba never noticed the small wound in the vastness of the sky.That's howthings really are in life.The bird fluttered a little in her hands,just like they say in books-"with ruffling feathers".Sheeba knew not how to caress wounds,so she brought some water and carefully washed the injured wings.The bird trembled but there was not a sighn of recovery.Sheeba knew nothing to do,she laid the bird by her side and saw the sky as it pulled off it's orange veil and blue skin showed from beneath.Today she didnot want to go back home so she sat and wondered about things she never has time to think about-she thought about the life before,she thought about the pebbles infront of her dark house,she thought about her little family and she thought about the birds that fly.These alone made her happy in time of disease.Sheeba looked at the sky above and tried to find the answers of life but a strong red veil covered her eyes,a wall she couldnot break through.She really wanted the times to change.She knew not much but the disease had really turned life around as if the supreme soul was mocking every move of humanity.Sheeba looked at the trees and laughed at how they looked like great,sourly gentlemen bending down to squeeze their noses and throw their pities on the little girl.Sheeba looked once more beside her,but this time she saw no bird,not even a little feather there.Sheeba was amazed-how could she not hear a single flutter before it flew away-but she had not much time to think about these things.So Sheeba gathered herself and stood up,she looked once more at the sky,perhaps she saw a white something fly across the dark clouds as well-Sheeba couldnot wait anymore,she had so much to do,such a long way to run-so she ran ahead to her dark house onthe hospital bed-she knew how to be a warrior,a survivor and she no longer was a character of a deadly play.Now she knew the taste of change,and she knew to fly without wings-she like many had to fight their disease to make her own changes to save the little hearts from breaking apart and so she started again.