Work Title

Going Home


Anne Morgan


We retired early, although sleep seemed a waste of time as we were so anxious to start, but rest was needed for the long day ahead. When the soft gray violet light of dawn peeped out of the East, we scrambled out of bed. The first faint call of the redbird floated through the window, and the song of the neighborhood oriole seemed sweeter than ever, because we were so happy. The rest of the world was hushed. It was for the moment ours and ours alone.



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