97 Defending Freedom
The birds chirped a pattern of tunes. It was a song that occupied Noah in the morning when he’s busy doing daily tasks inside the ranch. He finds it quite relaxing, especially when the birds assemble on the branch next to his window and sing the very same melody he was beginning to grow accustomed to. Noah halted, filling the metal feeders with fresh water. He admired them from a distance, the sun basking down on his covered head, his newsboy hat protecting him from the harmful rays. The birds ended their final notes too soon. Noah was happy that he could hear and finish their morning harmony. He couldn’t help but clap his hands. “That was fun,” he said as the birds flew one by one into the bright, blue sky. One bird whose feathers were greener than the leaves almost hi
- Writer
