Storm Passing

Lonely girl finds her wings.

The girl paused, glanced out the rain-streaked window. The storm had yet to pass and she had time to kill.

    But no one to do it with.

    The small apartment consisted of a tiny cot in the corner, a closet across the room, the desk she was sitting at; the only light came from a small lamp on the table and the window.

    Brushing back her hair, standing up, and pushing in the chair, Cia walked over to the door.

    Her hand hovered over the knob momentarily. Brow creased, she stepped back and crossed to the cot.

    No washing machine or kitchen...

    "Ah, what the hell," Cia said out loud. "I'm fine the way it is now." 

    It'll just get worse...

    "Shutup," she snapped at the gravelly voice. "Shutup."

    But she wasn't fine. She was all alone, nobody else to even notice if she went missing...

    Cia's back itched and she groaned. The feathers were molting, making her more jumpy. Spring needs to leave, d****t.

    She unfolded the black appendages, studied the floating feathers. Almost over.

    So was the storm.

Author's Note

Some language, sorry!