The Balcony Seat

These days, I let the terrarium of plants í struggle to keep green take the chair on my porch.

I sit on the ground.

The flutters of distant, aluminum wings beating as car doors open and close.

The start of an engine rolls through the night air.

The cricket chorus sings the ambiance.

Cool, summer air.

A red light must have turned green.

Right, exactly now.

The peal of tires burning rubber hollers.

Then, just crickets.

My chest suddenly releases and breath flows into my lungs again.

A’loosed.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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