
Written By: Marie Madaras. Pittsburg, NH The air shifted. The humidity settled; a cold mist suspended around me, unearthing the smell of rotting leaf litter beneath my boots mixed with a threatening October chill. BIRD! My exhale was cut short. The visible breath rolling and roiling in front of me, hanging indecisive of whether or not to dance away with the wind or flirt with atmospheric mist, remaining visible for just a second longer. The disembodied pounding of wings on the ground echoed down the gully, producing nothing but a moment of hope and flickering glint of glory, wisped away in...







