At 4AM the birds outsound everything. Their songs are desperate, me, me, me, me. You, you, you, you. As the sky lightens, a V of geese sweeps over, heading north. His eyes try to make sense of them. Everything is new. The greenness blurs the edges of space. Boundaries are lost and found again. There is a black pocket in the forest where he must not go. A man there pushes through the undergrowth in search of grapevine.
- Do You Know Who I Am: On Writing and Identity April 17, 2015
- self-promotion, bookselling, blah blah blah April 16, 2015
- “I Wrote This Book Because…” – Myfanwy Collins and The Book of Laney April 1, 2015
- the bluff March 27, 2015
- pub day: today is my butter March 17, 2015
- arrival, gratitude February 27, 2015
- lesson February 16, 2015
- Tradition December 25, 2014
- I Wrote This Book Because… December 12, 2014
- here we are now December 8, 2014
Simply gorgeous. A perfect micro. 🙂
Thank you so much, Ellen!