289. Early morning
© Bruce Goodman 26 July 2014

Berwyn loved the early mornings.

Today was one of those magnificent early mornings. The sunlight shone through the leaves. The birds sang. The dew-ridden flowers twinkled in the garden. It was still cool, before the heat of the late spring day. The sound of traffic had not yet begun.

Berwyn missed it all. She was still in bed.

Dead as a doornail.

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