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The Woods Echo Back

Shon isn't afraid. This isn't the stark silence of his empty home. This living quiet conceals the stretch of new leaf to sun, the rustle of the worm, and the squirm of pink pinioned baby birds. It is the held breath of small lungs in small bone cages around small swift hearts that beat a little faster waiting for the listener and the whistler to pass by.

Shon knows silence well.
Worth the Whistling

The wind turned, and the rustle of the field bled into the whistling of the wood, and more smoke blew closer. The air was bitter with it. He didn’t turn his gaze away from her. Anger. It was anger, there in its depths. She’d never had that directed at her before. Hadn’t had the chance to cause it, really. She let the hand holding the coins drop. “Tomorrow night.”

It was near midday when she heard the door open behind her, his cautious steps shuffling through dry, ash-coated leaves.
Audio Fiction Podcast:
The Woods Echo Back

Podcast: Download (Duration: 00:43:28 — 29.85MB)
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Shon knows silence well.
From the Archives:
Men of the Ashen Morrow
Sal stood alone in the field, feeling the absence of her friend's touch. Being open to death was the cost of living free.