Chapter Five – The Painted Feather
The twilight-colored thread sat in Amanda’s pouch for days before she touched it.
It almost felt… alive. Smooth and silky, not like any yarn she’d ever worked with before. Each time she unzipped the pouch, she half expected it to hum, or glow faintly.
One morning, while Chris brewed coffee outside on the propane stove, Amanda sat at the picnic table and let her hook dance through the twilight thread. She didn’t think, didn’t plan—just let her hands wander. Loop, pull, turn. Before long, the yarn had become a feather. Long, elegant, and slightly curved, like it had drifted down from the wing of some unseen bird.
Amanda smiled and set it down, expecting it to vanish by morning like the sunflower square.
But this time, it didn’t wait until morning.
As the sun set, Chris pointed upward. “Look.”
A flock of birds glided over the treetops, wings painted in hues Amanda had never seen before—deep violets and soft silver-blues, as if dusk itself had taken flight. One feather fluttered loose, spiraling down through the air. Amanda held her breath as it landed softly at her feet.
It was the same feather she had crocheted. Only real. Only alive.
She picked it up carefully, the iridescent barbs catching the last of the light. The birds wheeled once more overhead before vanishing beyond the horizon, leaving the campground quiet again.
Chris bent to look at the feather, brow furrowed. “Where did that come from?”
Amanda tucked it into her notebook and smiled. “The road.”
She didn’t need to explain. Not yet.
That night, lying in bed, Amanda traced the feather’s edge with her fingertips. The sunflower had rooted itself into earth. The mug had echoed back in words. The sticker had unfolded into a hidden café. And now—birds stitched from twilight.
The world wasn’t just meeting her halfway.
It was listening.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hey Y'all!
Have a great day!