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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1051501
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Rated: E · Book · Personal · #2297052
Some of my musings.
#1051501 added April 25, 2024 at 8:58pm
Restrictions: None
I'm Not Alone
         I first felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up when I stepped out of my pick-up truck. The tingling made me shiver despite the humidity. Something had me in its crosshairs.
         My exposed neck signaled my confused head to swivel and my unblinking eyes to remain on high alert.I stumbled up the ramp to the deserted deck. Who or what found me worth studying?
         As I balanced my armful and guided the key into the trailer door lock I snuck a quick peek. Nothing seemed out of place or threatening. No, the chairs were not moved or in a jumble. No one sat in them awaiting my arrival. Pulling open the door I cringed and held my breath. A rustling made me jump. Where had it originated? Did a twig snap?
         From the safety of my silent camper I leaned against the solid door. Nothing sprang at me and nothing roared, squeaked or moaned. I could not shake the creepy feeling though.
         Each foray to the truck to claim another box became an excuse to reconnoiter. I swept the perimeter. I made a point to check under my parked vehicle and circle around the many tree trunks. As a precaution I stomped across the deck. I let the screen door slam shut. At some point I even spoke out loud in an effort to dispel the suffocating stillness. The tingling intensified.
         Unpacking quelled my misgivings. My breathing slowed. Finding space for everything I'd funnelled into the trailer forced me to forget. Lifting, refolding and relocating eased my heightened nerves.
         Satisfied with my nesting efforts I retreated to my truck prepared to return home for another load of necessities. Something fluttered and swooped in my peripheral vision and I ducked. I swear the whoosh almost knocked me off my feet.
         Reaching the truck door I heard a trilling whistle and I looked up. Something dark flitted amongst the green leaves of a white birch and a fine dust swirled. Again the warbling enveloped me. A grey shadow with a distinctive red belly hopped onto a branch and fluttered its wings. The rustling had been the echoed antics of a bright-eyed robin, a bird intent on spying on me. She had the advantage of a tree top perch and a curious bird's eye view.(386 words)

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1051501