This evening at our neighborhood movie night I noticed the smell of decay, close to the screen. I found two dead bluebirds on the mulch by some bushes nearby. So strange: their feathers were still bright blue and beautiful, fragments of sky, not #pallid death. Their discovery seemed #freighted with meaning, but what meaning? This I still can't figure out.

I got a shovel and moved them elsewhere so that the smell of death didn't haunt the film.

#wss366 #microfiction #MicroEssay

The soldiers marched south through the night. Before long, Cecelia and Helia were scratched and sore from walking barefoot.
The cloudy sky grew #pallid as the dawn approached.
Cecelia heard when the lead ranks began to cross a wooden bridge.
"Ware!" Hillsong suddenly bellowed. "Pull back!"
With the sound of wrenching timber, the bridge toppled over sideways. Dozens of soldiers spilled into the muddy water.
"Take that, dogs of Havelock!" hooted Sergeant Baker from across the river.

#wss366