This is Jeren’s story based on her poem about lost wings. A fairy or folk legend, freshly minted 🙂
When I slipped my bag down outside and entered the dimly lit room, I knew, this time, today, it’s not like the other days. It was different. It was all in her face. The one which was always brimming with childlike confidence and happiness is now mature and brave. Because she knew what was going to happen and she made her peace with it.
When the creaking door announced my arrival, she put on her happiest face possible at that time and welcomed me. I sat beside her on a small steel stool.
It was uncomfortable but that’s the last thing my mind focused at that time. It wandered through every evening we shared together, sitting on our backyard, feeding the chickens. With every wave of grain she tossed on to the ground, she would say something wise. It’s not…
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