Miranda Whall

7.00am

We did it, we made it through the night, the first bird that sung its first note at dawn was beautiful, the light was beautiful, the morning was beautiful. At last I could see further then a leaf, a branch, my hands. The night was dark and deep, for a few moments I was badger, or something, not me, I was the body of something else in a smell that was thick, in a wall of warm air that clung to the ground, I was in it.