The Siamese Swan

(Science fiction)

Oprah sighed.

A long drawn out gust of breath, full of self pity. There he was- Tudor. The best thing since sliced beetles on lotus. The handsomest male swan in their lake. But he'd never look at her- forget a second glance. For she was- a freak of nature- a Siamese Swan. Born with not one- but two graceful necks and heads.

Harpo sighed.

A short, crisp intake of breath. There he was- Tudor- the handsomest of the lot. Would he look at her today- she- a Siamese Swan- saddled with the other head- Oprah?

Oprah swam a little closer to where Tudor was- maybe tonight she could tell him how she felt. She'd heard the elders whispering it was a full moon tonight. Maybe the silvery moon, the cool lake and the ample stars could add to the lovers' atmosphere. Tonight...

Harpo swam a little closer to where Tudor was- craning her neck to hear what he was saying to the others. Maybe tonight, was all she heard. What was tonight? If only she could get rid of the silly other neck- Oprah- she'd have the body to herself and Tudor would be hers. But how, was the question. Hoping Oprah had heard 'tonight'- she looked away, a devious little seed creeping into her brain.

Oprah heard tonight. Yes. Tonight it would be. She looked at her reflection in the clear blue water. What if Harpo had never been there? The elders often complimented her on her beauty and she knew none of those remarks were meant for Harpo. Harpo was the only impediment between her and Tudor. She tried to shake off the 'what if' feeling. No, she couldn't, not to her own sister. 

Harpo thought of Oprah. Silly silly silly. She'd have been much better off without this other neck craning away her chances of a full-blown romance.

Slowly dusk fell in sheets over the small lake. Tudor and his small gang of female admirers were gazing at the velvety sky with it's multitude of stars. They heard a cackle, followed by sharp grunts and then a hiss. Swimming over to the bushy clump, they found the Siamese Swan- the one of a kind rare sight- whom Tudor believed to be an incarnation of God- and worthy of secret worship- floating feet up.

It's two necks were severely twisted, as if in battle. 

The elders bemoaned the fact that tonight was the seventh night of the full moon, the night when God himself would've descended the Earth, through his prized creation of the rare Siamese Swan.