She Once Had Been Pink But Never Had Feathers
Chella Courington
A flock of flamingos lived behind the house. Some near the roses, others around the palm. Twelve in shades of pink—fuchsia, salmon and coral fading through time. She would sit, waiting for them to unfurl, hoping they would call her to fly south. Why was she encased in pale flesh and graying hair when all she desired was to stand in Lake Nakuru with her kind? One leg tucked beneath her body.  

First published: August, 2014
© All rights reserved by the writer
Comments to the writer:
doorknobsandbodypaint@gmail.com