Category Archives: flash fiction

The dawn chorus began long before the sun crested the horizon. The evening’s cricket performance was still in full swing when it was joined by morning songbirds—perhaps confused by recent shifting weather patterns—who struck their first notes in the deep blackness of the night, calling for the day’s beginning long before the appointed rise of the curtain.

Groggy and unsure of the hour, the woman lay in the purple-dark room awakened by nature’s alarm clock. She kept no clock in the room, always disturbed by the idea of her uneven sleep being measured, and relied on the music provided by her tree-dwelling neighbors to alert her to the day’s beginning. The night had been long and restless, punctuated by frequent, unscheduled wake-ups with unsolicited thoughts whispering her to wakefulness. But, the woman had found, her brain rarely cooperated with her desire to rest.

Sitting up slowly, she groped for the glasses that waited at the top corner of her bed and, finding them, slid them onto her face before reaching out to draw back the blackout curtains that covered the bedroom window. Darkness greeted her. She sat staring out into the night, confused—perhaps more confused than the birds themselves. However, now that she was awake and no longer needed to wrestle insomnia, she threw her legs over the edge of the bed and rose to start her day, wondering what time it actually was.