She anticipated my soft footfalls and lurked behind, ready to grab my shoulders. Oblivious to her movements, I wondered from where the mesmeric birdsong echoed. I scanned the dirty window, searching for her russet eyes; no glimpse shot my heart from afar as usual. Looking for meaning in my tea, she struck without sight and simpered with warmth.


3 comments so far

  1. AD on

    and it tickles 🙂

    Happy SS

    Muted Anticipations

  2. Als Simmons on

    I love your way with words..
    “mesmeric birdsong echoed”

  3. Michelle Johnson on

    Your bursts of fiction- priceless. This is great. ‘mesmeric birdsong echoed’ and ‘russet eyes’ beautiful images. And the catch at the end… wonderful.

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