Bonsoir. I know I’ve been absent online recently but I have been writing the whole time. I challenged myself to mesh together all of the odd bits and pieces I’ve penned over the past 6 weeks into one story. This is the result.
Originally posted on Hijacked Amygdala here.
Day of Birth
She had taken the day off work but forgot to turn off her usual alarm. All hopes of a lie-in were demolished. She was not ready to turn 29. “Let’s call the whole thing off.”
She wondered if the ravens knew that their continuous cawing is the most consistent, reliable thing in her life.
A murder of crows. An ostentation of peacocks. A parliament of owls. She had no collective. She just was.
She buried her phone under her mattress so she didn’t have to face life just yet. She began to read The Glass…
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