Thursday 6 April 2017

Writing Club: Sing Blue Bird Sleep

Writing Club 
April 4, 2017 

Prompt: “He woke to bird song.”
 You have 30 minutes!  Go!

Sing Blue Bird Sleep!

He woke to bird song and jammed his pillow over his head.  Just 5 more minutes.  His hand sprawled over the bedside table feeling for the alarm clock.  The sun was a bit too bright in the room, Carl should have noticed that the shadows had been chased completely from the wooden boards.  That would have been the first sign to rise. 

A warm breeze blew in the window and ruffled his hair.  Another sign the world was waking and it was going to be one of those tra la la days. Blah!  An 8 hour shift of plinkets shaped into plunkets.  Plunkets hammering to the tune of tweeting birds. 

Instead of joining the dance of sunshine, he pursued the land of Winkin, Blinkin and Nod.  Nod off.  Counting sheep falling from their ship of star dust until blue birds started flying overhead and plucking wool from the sheeps’ bloody backs.  Then the birds chirping much too loudly soared up becoming dots to be tucked away in unknown places in the sky.

Flipping himself violently away from the window, Carl hammered down his pillow in a ball and heaved the comforter up over his head willing silence and the dark to return.  The bed began to tip away and disappear from beneath him, he jumped awake again.  The fake fall brought back the light and then the twitter of birds.  

Pin pricks grabbed his feet, his ankles.

There was a plunk on the covers at his feet, followed by light tapping and rubbing down his side, then fur and loud purring.   Carl opened his eyes to tiger striped tabby fluff in his face.  For a moment, he was 10 again.  Wait. But Barney had orange fur, this cat was grey.  His childhood bedroom had sky blue walls with aeroplane decals.  This wall was slate grey.  He looked at the burn on his hand. Yes, he was a 32 year old welder in an automotive plant. 

            “Carl, Carl!” It was Shelia stirring him from slumber now.  She sounded exasperated.  “You forgot to close the window last night and that dirty old cat alley cat climbed in the house after my parakeets again.”

            Looking up to see the red numbers blaring.  Carl was late for work.  He’d take tra la la any day over the song his boss would sing.  He picked a feather from the sheets, paused for a moment and then carried on.




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