rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Nightsong

A breeze is blowing steadily down the ridge, making the dry leaves skitter along the pavement. The moon has reached it's cheshire-cat grin phase, rising level above the treetops. A nice night for bats. I listen to the sound of the wind in the pines for a while, then go into the house to make a cup of tea, and watch the cats sleeping while I type away. The sound of the keyboard is oddly like the sound the leaves are making outside.
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