by Jeffrey S. Callico
Cold today, and here I sit at this lonely window, the coffee cold too soon. Where is everyone? Well, they’re not here, I can see that to be true. Outside in the cold is the place no one wants to be, including me.
When I wake before dawn I hear a bird but never know where it is. Sometimes I wonder if I am dreaming or if it really exists. It must, I think, because when I hear it I’m awake. Or am I?
Today this window is lonely and I am here, alone like that bird must always be.
(Jeffrey S. Callico hails from Atlanta. His collection of short fiction, Fighting Off The Sun: Stories, Tales, and Other Matters of Opinion, is available on Amazon. His work has appeared in several print and online literary journals, including FRiGG, Johnny America, Origami Condom, Calliope Nerve, The Legendary, Opium Poetry 2.0, Target Audience Magazine, Spoken War, Pulp Metal Magazine, Weirdyear and Fashion for Collapse.)