Feed
“What are you waiting for?”
“To feel full — of joy, hatred, happiness; anything. Just to feel full.”
We watched how, outside our window, the garden was covered in snow. Overflowing. The neighbor’s trees were heaving, and the few birds that were brave enough to venture through the branches found a couple of suet balls. That will help them through the winter.
“It snows again.” Small snowflakes danced around in the evening wind. The neighborhood is their backdrop. White on red. White on black. The golden stars shine through the windows — at least one or two for every household.
“Maybe I should build a snowman.”
Tiny Christmas lights fill the gardens. The neighbor across the street already adorned his outdoor tree. Red and yellow and blue. Like the birds from the trees.
Wood burns in the fireplace.
“I’ll go feed the fire.”
