A bird fearing the sky.

Note: This piece is part of the story “Warm Porcelain.”

If you’d like, you can read the previous chapters here: chapter 1chapter 2 , chapter 3


He forget the room around him, spinning. He turned blind to anything but her. He had been waiting for that look, one of pure wonder. The tragedy of his fate defined by that one simple moment. Here the kindness would end and the questions would begin. He had seen it a couple of times before.

Once they knew, the curious women or friendly men, they were seeing someone who no one else saw, they asked him to leave. Afraid he was a first sign of newborn insanity, an uncanny creature arisen from a horror movie. Someone, not even a human being, living in between the difference between night and day, dead and alive.

Her eyes never left his, as she swiftly hushed her sister out of the door. It was surprising, refreshing even, that the shock still hadn’t settled on her face. There was curiosity behind it, but not one filled with fear.

He lowered his head, feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long time; a sweet shyness. The kind you experience when someone tells you they are in love with you. Disbelief so tender it heats up your whole body, your cheeks flushing pink.

“I knew you were different,” she whispered, her body slowly lowering itself until she sat on the floor, just inches away from him.

He was slowly rubbing his hands together, eyes refocusing on a different piece of the sofa every second.

“I’m sorry.” It flew from his lips like a bird fearing the sky.

She wanted to tell him, not to worry. There was no reason to apologize. She had brought him here. Yet right now, she realised she was absolutely unaware of the possible consequences. A tiny hint of worry crossed her mind. Could a ghost, if that what he was, first win her heart to later break it permanently, taking away every piece of love and life left inside of her?

“I don’t understand,” she said, more to herself than to him.

He lifted his head up, a slow-motion movement, making it seem so gracefully. He wanted so badly to  touch her, for it could be the last time.

“I’m not real.”


Wow, this has been a while!

Someone kindly asked me to continue this, so I will try my best.

Love always.

Froe x


5 thoughts on “A bird fearing the sky.

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