Feathers and Stones — (microDosing / surprise – 100µg)
It’s a child’s view — watching the morning sun moving round the kitchen. It pulses through the lace curtains in fragments, like memory unraveling. The house hums. The walls remember more than I do.
Grandmother does, too. She startles like joy, or prophecy.
“Fetch me the kitchen scissors, girl,” she calls from the porch, nettles bleeding in her hands.
I open the drawer.
Inside: a clutch of crow feathers, soft and obsidian-black. And white stones, warm like breath.
Somewhere, I hear a bird.
Somewhere, a door forgets how to close.
The scissors are gone.
Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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