Washed-up on the sand, it wearily opened its small eyes.
The stone it had carried, remained firmly clasped within its beak, and with the last remnants of strength it could muster, it hoisted its subtle frame up onto its feet and rustled its broken feathers.
With one thing left to do, it beat its wings and rose into the air. Flying, somewhat off-kilter, it made its way to the precipice of the sea and gazed lazily down at the water.
Then, like a sigh, it released the last remaining stone from its grasp.
As the stone hit the waves, the ocean violently shuddered, and the vastness of water began rushing in on itself. The bird was stunned as it watched the waters whip into a cone of mist and then vanish entirely. Just the level earth remained, littered with broken stones.
