STAVE III
In the early light of a musty Brigadoon morning, Zenobia lifted her woolen hood, winced down to one knee, and leaned forward to brace herself on the natural cradle formed by the tiny and towering ancient rocks which stood guard beyond the lush pathways.
There was something perfunctory as she began her monotone whisper, completely flat, like the way you would answer a telephone half asleep; “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday baby Stella, Happy Birthday to you.”
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 
A beautiful photograph to go along with beautifully sad and concerning words.
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I appreciate that LLL… quite kind. I have begun the the final section of my Dying To Know story.
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nice!
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Wow! Heartbreaking end. 💔 love your choice of words, as always, keep writing Edward.
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Your kind words are terrific motivation NDK. Thank You so very much.
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By the way, do not miss a single upcoming post. You will gasp along the way and be blown away by the ending… Thanks again for your interest.
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Looking forward to it!! Great writing MTS!
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As I catch up on your blog, I wondered if you are prone to creating poetry/sentences in your head as you walk/work or at other times. Is the process an easy one to you? The flow and imagery? Love to read your two sentences.
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