Birds are
l o u d.
They are nothing
like the
feathers
that comfort me.
They are also
very
s e l f i s h.
They prefer to
keep their
feathers
to themselves.
I don't kill them.
They're too
innocent.
Instead,
I watch them
make
c s
i e
r l
c
in the
air.
F l y i n g
like they have
nothing
else to do.
I wish
I could
fly.
Fly
away from
all of my
troubles.
YOU ARE READING
Feathers {Story by Briar}
Short StoryF E A T H E R S Have a way of making everything seem so perfect But are never perfect themselves. Time stops. Hearts race. All is quiet. There is peace hidden within the F E A T H E R S
