This was submitted for a class.
“Aaaaand…” Ratchet tinkered with the last couple of cogs, squinting through the magnifying lens attached to their goggle, brushing out bits of stray, scraggy hair out of their eyes. It was a bright and sunny day, light bled into the room, casting everything in a golden glow, glinting off the bronze parts which littered almost every corner of the room, neat piles, not-so-neat-piles, stacked precariously on shelves, or otherwise fastened to the walls, “almooost… there!”
The newborn creature lay before them, a clockwork bird, about as still as… well, any other object, though, it was so much more than that. Ratchet pulled open a drawer beside them, inside were piles of finely ground coal, and scoops of various sizes on top. Ratchet grabbed one of the smaller ones, scooping a little bit of coal, and pouring it into a small valve on the back of the bird.
Click. Click. Psshh. It spurred, letting out gusts of air from pressure valves.
Click.
CLICK. PSSHHH.
A groaning sound emanated gently from it, a soft whirring and then the glow of hot coal in it’s stomach. “Yaha!!” Ratchet leaped off his chair which promptly fell to the floor with a loud bang, kicking up plumes of dust.
Click. Click.
The bird hobbled to its feet, and craned its neck, intricate gears clicking melodically as it moved. It spread one wing, large gears embedded in the centre of them both, it spun gently with the bird’s slow flaps. The bird hopped again, springs on its leg contracting as it landed, and flying back upright.
“Hello!” Ratchet said, leaning in close to the animal, they felt their chest swell, “you’re aliiive!” Ratchet yelled, raising their arms in the air in a grandiose huzzah.
The bird hopped over to the windowsill, kicking aside papers as it did. The construct pecked at the glass. It sounded like a coin tapping gently against it. “You wanna go outside?” Ratchet called, “I’ll get it for you!”
Ratchet went over to the window, unlatched the bronze clasp, and pushed open the glass, and the bird immediately leapt out, flapping its wings as it did, CLICK, CLICK, sunlight encased it, it glowed like a star and for a moment, CLICK, it flew! It flapped it wings hard, CLICK, CLICK, and the wind swept it from underneath, and it soared!
“Yeaahaha! Go birdie go!” Ratchet cried, but it only flew a foot or so before it went straight down.
“No! No! No!” Ratchet tried to grab it out of the air, flinging themselves out the window and clambering onto their desk, but it was just out of reach. The bird plummeted downwards, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, it flapped its wings desperately, “No! Please! Someone catch it!” They yelled out the window, “Watch out!”
CLANG.
The bird struck the ground, Ratchet watched as gears rolled out of its carcass, like someone just dropped a coin-purse. Their heart sunk. In that instant, they leapt off their table, and ran out of the room. “He’s dead!! Birdie fell!! HE’S DEEAD!!” they yelled, eyes tearing up. They ran through the house, darting around corners, sprawled chairs, Clockwork constructs and various tables.
“What happened?!” a voice yelled from behind Ratchet, but they’d already turned the corner, grabbing the wall and sling-shotting themselves down the spiral staircase, fingers glazing the bricks on the sides, and burst out onto the streets. The sun beat down on them, their eyes stung as the light pierced them, “Ack!”, they raised their hands to shield their eyes and darted their head around frantically.
A small crowd had gathered just outside the workshop window. “Move! Move! Outa the way! Outa the way!” Ratchet yelled, pushing people aside and burrowing their way into the crowd.
There it was. Ratchet stared at the remains of what was Birdie, who lay sprawled on the concrete.
“…” Ratchet stared blankly at the mass of bronze.
Click. Click.
“!!” Ratchet perked up, eyes brightening, they leapt beside Birdie, reaching out to it meekly, afraid to touch it in case it broke further.
Click. CLICK.
Birdie craned its neck towards Ratchet, and tried to hop, but one of their legs was broken. The construct did a lopsided tumble and rolled onto its side.
Ratchet reached over and raised it gently, they felt its warmth in their hands, but the glow was dwindling. “I’ll fix you right up, Birdie, don’t you worry! And next time…” they looked up at the sky with conviction, “you’ll fly!”
Saye Kamal 