Quiet Scenes (Prose)

(Inspired by another brother this time, who also writes a fantastic blog. I know… We’re a lot. Don’t be jealous.)

Watching leaves socialize out the back door is a bit like seeing a party take place in a silent movie or from too far away to hear their merry chatter. The sun watches them too – not directly, but from the corner of his eye. You only know because it’s light enough now for mortals to see them too in the pre-day light.

Inside, things are warming up as well. A shower runs upstairs. Quiet kitchen scene punctuated by typing and connection, a story shared or picture shown, and subdued chuckling. Two forms sit at the kitchen table – two versions of morning human. Microwaved coffee from days past emanates cold heat from one mug.

I do enjoy my quiet scenes.


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