By Jake T.S. Wryte
Another black bird tumbled from the sky, candle flame pinched between thumb and forefinger, smothered like a growing seed suddenly vanished with a cramp and a house left empty like her wrecked womb.
Elana scooped the bird into her soil-stained hands, longing to be embraced once more.
“That’s a dozen this week,” Sheriff Mildred said, eyes cast skyward. It’d been raining birds for three months, more each day.
Elana stroked the bird, as she and Alistair had once caressed her stomach. She inhaled deeply, tears dripping down her cheeks.
“How many more?” asked Sheriff Mildred.
“Until he comes home,” she said.
Exquisite!
Thank you!
Packed with double meaning, from the portmanteau title on. Really impressive.
Thanks I’m glad you like.
Very well written with a good meaning behind it. Nice work.
Thank you, Lisa.
Beautiful. Such lovely imagery and metaphor to pick through in so few words – deeper meaning with each read. Wonderful.
Thank you, Ashley!
Heartbreaking. Very well written!
Well written
I love how it combines the fantastical layer of nature’s response to a personal natural disaster.
Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it!