“A White Heron” is a short story about a girl’s decision in the rural land that she lives in. It bases around the girl meeting a hunter needing a place to stay, while doing this, the hunter plans to find a rare bird known as the white heron who was expected to be in this area. After finding out the intentions of the hunter, the girl goes out to see the heron. Once confirming its sight, she heads back home and keeps to herself about the bird, leaving the hunter disappointed.

Themes run all throughout this short story. One of them is the meaning of innocence. This innocence of the girl is put to the test in the story. She has to decide whether to expose the heron to the hunter or keep the location a secret. Either way, she ends up destroying one side, whether it leads to the demise of the heron or crushing the dreams of the hunter. This gives her the confliction on whether if birds are better friends than humans can ever be.

Flash Fan Fiction: This takes place during the end of the short story.

The sun shined across the plains as the hunter appeared through the front door. After seeing no sign of Sylvia, he proceeded to look out for her before heading out for her grandma’s sake. The trail posed a different view from the position where Sylvia was where they first met. The hunter knelt down and spotted out fresh tracks, human footprints trailing off into the woods. He was soon introduced to the wildlife that he had always appreciated. It continued to hit his mind that the white heron could be anywhere in these woods. Until then, he noticed Sylvia laid up against the trunk of a tree alongside the white coat that can only be distinguished by one known bird. Without any hesitation, the hunter’s instincts shot all over his body giving him the indication to line up his shot. It could be considered the fastest he’s ever pulled out his rifle, nothing else mattered for once except taking the trophy he had desired, but the trigger never fired. Its sound would be the indicator of the new day, yet it felt like a new life for the hunter. He’s done this multiple times so it should prove no issue, Sylvia was in no danger with the hunter’s expertise. The view had overcome the dream he had desired. Life can be appreciated in the landscape rather than posted on a wall. The hunter had decided, he walked away and shot up into the sky. With the white heron in precaution, it flew away as Sylvia woke up with no idea on what happened. The hunter had begun his descent down the trail. Perhaps the next thing to be mounted up is the very trophy that helped him along the way. The white heron strides once more.