The Library of Asten

Marcus kept a small ceramic bird on his windowsill. It was a gift from his mentor, a reminder of when he first learned to lift others up.

Each morning, he touched the bird while reciting his daily mantra. The bird had heard it all: the thrill of early beginnings, the steadying words when his world wavered, and now, words that felt weak and tired.

He finished his coffee, grabbed his keys, and stepped into another long day of nothing.

Outside, a crow perched on a lamppost, watching him as he crossed the yard.

“Don’t look at me like that”, Marcus muttered as he felt judged by the bird. “I used to empower people for a living. Packed rooms, standing ovations. Now I can barely convince myself to get out the door”. 

With a wingbeat, the crow sailed down and landed in front of Marcus, stopping him in his tracks. Its eyes not judgmental, but kind, as it dropped something shiny at his feet. A bottle cap.

Marcus hesitated, then bent down.

The bird tilted his head, watching him expectantly.

“Is this… a gift?”

A soft caw, as in response.

Marcus picked it up and put it in his pocket. 

The weight was nothing, but his chest felt lighter.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. Another caw, and the crow lifted into the sky.

That evening, Marcus placed the bottle cap beside the small ceramic bird. A shining reminder that kindness could find him whenever he needed it most.