Birdsong and Sunrise

Birdsong and Sunrise

Reflection, Creation, Inner Peace

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  • Ben

    Ben

    Ben kicked Abel under the table and sat up a little straighter, “Shut up! there she is.” Lucy made her way through the door of the coffee shop and he waved at her, continuing with instructions through his smile. “Abel, don’t turn around. Just act normal,” he ordered. Lucy waved back as she headed to…

    Ghost Writer

    April 21, 2024
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Past and Present Tense

    Past and Present Tense

    Her breath caught in the back of her throat when he kissed her. Fireworks lit up the deepest parts of her body. Time slowed as he waited for her response. She couldn’t think, paralyzed in the moment. All she could do was feel. She kissed him back, gently at first. Then, with a ferocity she…

    Ghost Writer

    April 21, 2024
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Thermoregulation

    Thermoregulation

    They bounded over the trail, moonlight illuminating the forest floor below intermittent breaks in the tree cover. He didn’t think she would actually take him up on the offer to go out for a midnight run. But, somehow, here they were. The day had been long under the August sun and it felt good to…

    Ghost Writer

    April 21, 2024
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Compare and Contrast

    Compare and Contrast

    She pulled the barn door open slowly, hoping not to wake the sleeping house behind her, and froze in place as the hinges let out a loud creak. “I’ll have to find the oil for those tomorrow,” she said to herself, leaving the door ajar just enough to slip back out after her work was…

    Ghost Writer

    April 20, 2024
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, short-story, sunrise, writing
  • The In Between

    The In Between

    This could be the hardest time Rumination with no outlet No permission to be spoken into the dark, cold, starry night to be manifested into something true Forever seeking whether the answer is in a pill or in change in numbing or in growing Is this winter’s sunrise, the lack of desolate frigidity, a gift

    Ghost Writer

    April 20, 2024
    poetry
    birdsong, poetry, sunrise, writing
  • Anna

    Anna

    “Abel, would you tell me about Abigail’s mom? Anna…” Lucy looked at him from across the porch, and he paused, considering her question. “What would you like to know?” Abel shifted in the rocker, to face her more directly, “Where should I start?” “Tell me about the life you built for yourself out East. I…

    Ghost Writer

    April 20, 2024
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Changing Seasons

    Changing Seasons

    The wind howled outside “He’ll be a spring baby. Seems fitting.” He watched her, reaching desperately for the right words and fully aware of how important his reaction was in the moment. “You sure this is what you want?” She looked back at him and sighed, “Well, it wasn’t what we anticipated, at least not…

    Ghost Writer

    April 20, 2024
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Vacancies

    Vacancies

    Abel stared at the ceiling, listening. He could hear quiet movement down the hall. He waited for Abigail’s voice, but only quiet breathing filled the early morning air. It was strange waking in his childhood bedroom, so unfamiliar, and as if he’d never left all at the same time. His old baseball mitt still sitting…

    Ghost Writer

    June 16, 2023
    fiction
    birdsong, fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Forward March

    Forward March

    Lucy woke with a start, abruptly pulled from another land. A dream where people were so real, she could feel the pain, the longing, in her chest. And it took her breath away momentarily. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and pushed herself up, sore from a day in the orchard…

    Ghost Writer

    June 16, 2023
    fiction
    fiction, sunrise, writing
  • Summer Home

    Summer Home

    If I could build a summer home It would be Window screens and box fans, the sound of thunder as a summer storm rolls in. Now those windows are closed up by air conditioning, but I still prefer the heat and the summer breeze. It would be 4th of July snappers and smoke bombs, bottle…

    Ghost Writer

    May 11, 2023
    poetry, reflection
    birdsong, poetry, sunrise, writing
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