A village, slowly waking

The gate is open and the air is warm.

Anna is at the desk, writing the stories of this place. Coco is asleep in a patch of sun he has decided belongs to him. The afternoon rain comes at three; after it passes, the lane smells like wet stone for an hour. Coco knows both schedules better than she does.

There is a gecko on the kitchen wall who has been there since before Anna started counting. Most days nothing happens. We made this place for the days when nothing happening is exactly what you need.

Anna at her writing desk by the shuttered window, pen in hand over an open notebook, Coco the ginger cat curled asleep on a stack of books beside the lamp, potted plants crowding the warm little room.
the desk, most afternoons

Start with She Stayed. Anna came for a little while. She's still here.

Or leave your name at the Village Post.

A new story every other Sunday.