The sound of the cricket woke her up. She searched for it, in the room, but when she thought she was close, the sound came from another direction. This went on for a half hour. Then thoroughly awake at 2 am, she went outside to look at the sky, hoping to see some meteors. She saw some, then when she went back to bed, the crickets were now quiet; maybe they woke her so she could see the meteors.
Chanpheng
Fronds blew in the moonlight above. Water as still as her heart. She had waited for him. Everyday. It was a torture on its own, waiting for a dead man. Or at least, she assumed he was dead. Easier to think that way. The alternative was realizing that the world was darker now, a former shell of the warm glow it used to have. Now when she woke in the morning she heard not his familiar growl, but instead, crickets.
Tiny, little thing, who in orchestra thrive, who is adorned to bear luck, and springs away when my feet drag the grass.
The sound of the cricket woke her up. She searched for it, in the room, but when she thought she was close, the sound came from another direction. This went on for a half hour. Then thoroughly awake at 2 am, she went outside to look at the sky, hoping to see some meteors. She saw some, then when she went back to bed, the crickets were now quiet; maybe they woke her so she could see the meteors.
Fronds blew in the moonlight above. Water as still as her heart. She had waited for him. Everyday. It was a torture on its own, waiting for a dead man. Or at least, she assumed he was dead. Easier to think that way. The alternative was realizing that the world was darker now, a former shell of the warm glow it used to have. Now when she woke in the morning she heard not his familiar growl, but instead, crickets.