Obby and Cyril sat on the rocks watching the seagulls.
“Hello seagulls,” shouted Obby, as he waved at them circling in the sky.
They flew down and rested on the rocks close to them. They were all friendly except for one, who kept on fighting with the others when they sat their minding their own business.
“I wonder why he’s like that,”asked Cyril, pointing to the angry seagull.
“I’m not sure,” said Obby, “But when I was watching them fly in the sky, he didn’t seem to fly as high as the others.”
“Maybe he’s scared of heights,” said Cyril, “And that could be his problem.”
“Yes, maybe,” said Obby, “ Imagine being a bird with vertigo.”
“What’s vertigo?” asked Cyril.
“It’s a fear of heights.”
They both looked at the angry seagull flapping his wings in everyone’s face.
“He doesn’t have any manners,”said Cyril.
“I also noticed”, said Obby, “That when he dived into the water to catch fish he kept on dropping his not like the others.”
Cyril looked at the angry seagull. He felt sorry for him now.
“Maybe that’s why he’s so rude and angry,” said Cyril, “And bullies the others when they’re on land.”
“If you look closely,” said Obby, “You will see that all the seagulls have left a little fish for him on the big rock.”
Cyril could see a pile of fish.
“He’s not very grateful,” said Cyril, “By the way he acts.”
“It doesn’t seem to bother them,”said Obby, “ As long as he has something to eat they seem happy enough to put up with him and his bad manners and they probably know he’s not a natural catch, nor a great flier but pretend they haven’t noticed.”
“I suppose,” said Cyril, “Like my big sister who pretends not to be scared of the dark, and I hold her hand pretending I’m scared.”
“ Exactly,” said Obby.