Last night, I lay awake and remembered a friend.

It was early spring when we met, a time when I was sad and lonely. I wasn’t sleeping well and, each night, a bird would sing loudly, outside my window. It went on for weeks and, to my ears, the beautiful birdsong becoming less cheerful and less beautiful by the night. Some nights, I would lay and think longingly, of my brother’s air rifle and peace and quiet.

I knew not what kind of bird he was, just a loud one. I looked so many times to try and catch him at his song, but never did. Read the rest of this entry »