Winged messenger

Vow, that’s what she calls her­self. She sits in silence, because someone might be listen­ing. Watches the walls, because they could be cast­ing sly glances at her frame, hid­den beneath such unas­sum­ing clothes. Ten o’clock. There is burble and hiss. It seems the news is not good. The drought is worsen­ing; the live­stock are falling […]