THE WIND PHONE

The Creek

Anna West
The Wind Phone

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An essay

Photo by Christopher Campbell on Unsplash

I watched rays from the fading California sun cast a shimmering glow across the large magenta bougainvillea that flourished in the lane across from my bedroom window. The wind tickled the brilliant papery leaves enclosing a small white flower, and I could hear a soft shooshing sound as the bracts brushed together.

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Anna West
The Wind Phone

Traveller. Tea drinker.. Dreamer. Cook. Currently based in London determined to finish my first piece of creative non-fiction, In the Garden of Dark Flowers.