Ficlets

The Jubilee of Austere Birchwood

Ev’time I look outside, see the sunbeams cuttin’ down through the clouds like some big yella halo an’ I just gotta smile. Ne’er saw it afore. Birchw’d allus had a dark gloominess to it, an’ the hot rains been fallin’ since I can rememma.

I started readin’ again, well we all did. This one story I used to know cover ta cover growin’ up. Was my fav’rite. ‘Bout a man with a guitar an’ he played dancing songs f’the whole village when the sun rised up in the morn’.

Well I saw my first sunrise yest’day and it was ephemeral. That’s what t’book say anyway, talkin’ ‘bout the Ephemeral Dawn-Smile of Heaven. It’s true! It’s so true.

An’ then today, it didn’t rain at all, not one drop. Not yet anyways. I keep lookin’ out the winnow ‘a make sure. An’ all I see’s sunbeams, like the story say. I wish I had a guitar, I’d play and play and play it.

I read ‘cause there’s no music an’ the words are like beaut’ful instraments on the paper. Grampa used to play a harmonica, long long ago, an’ I hear it in the pages turnin’.

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