Thursday, 23 October 2014

A short story I wrote

I named it peacock. Not sure why.
Out on the balcony, the woman stood; hands on the rail, her scarf blowing in the wind. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slowed. Behind her, a carriage sat, in wait, its pure white horses standing completely still. All time seemed frozen, except for the woman. She sighs. “All my life, this opportunity would have helped me…” A bluebird flies in from above, landing on her shoulder. “So, why does it feel like I’m leaving a place I want to be? Going into the unknown seemed daring then. Now, why does it scare me? Going forward blind was a challenge. Now, all I can do is hope that I’m going forward into better times.” She opens her eyes, turning around slowly. The warm night breeze pulled a curl loose from her bun, a tendril of brown softness. “Goodbye,” She whispers to the bird.
Time unfreezes, and she heads to the carriage.

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