The Whistle of a Songbird

Chapter 2

Everything was in place, including my mother's new office. It had been a while since I felt genuine happiness; how I longed for it to return to me. However, I have taken notice of a tingle, a rattle, as if my bones are shaking in place. A literal shiver of a spine, It felt as if I had my wind inside me. Despite how disturbingly new it presented itself to me, I perceived it as calming and normally embraced the insanity of it all.

I can't say my mother felt it too, for she has been aloof, immersed in a world of twisted versions of the English lexicon. To be alone in her mind space would be grateful for me, a place of nurture and worth that plagues the soil of where she stands. But one must not hope for a passage out of the exceptionally abysmal reality that robs us of freedom and paints a new layer of artificial joy.

It's not like I had many friends, to begin with, but now I feel even more alone than usual. I miss the freckles and unpredictability of Casey and the bold atmosphere of Ashlyn. The previous town I inhabited was Sheldon. Something so quiet yet so loud. A tire swing was a rollercoaster, two-story houses were mansions, and the wispy hills of sand were permeable castles. Shrubbery danced in the wind and flurries of tumbleweeds would make up the hurricanes; of which we lacked. The only pollutions we had were town barbecues and the smell of oil. Occasionally rain would spice the ground and drown out any other smell, but the landscape always remained the same. It was a peaceful life.