Birdsong and Sunrise

She had to move. Stillness would just not work today. She dropped the bucket under the pump and began the work of filling, carrying, and dumping. The rhythm of morning chores always brought things into focus, especially on days like these when time seemed to speed up and slow down without notice or cause, moments crashing into each other and pulling apart. What would she tell Abel? Yesterday’s news, bringing back a world, a life, she had long left behind. So much more to explain than he realized. For now, back to the chores. She would figure it all out. She always did. She always had to.