Last Night on Drury Lane

By David Wing

 

This was the second night it came to Drury Lane. He’d turned off his lamp and sat below the window, and could now see it, hovering above the chimneys across the street. Its wings barely moved and yet there it was, sitting in the air, waiting.

For what, there could be only one answer. She’d been in the Terminal Care unit for months, and this would be her last visit home.

As he watched, the night wings shadowed over the white wash walls, turning them black and without a sound, it slipped silently inside the second floor window.

About Russ Thompson

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