Then, with a final, breathy pop , the cage opened.
He slipped out of bed, the floorboards cool and slick against his bare feet. Downstairs, the old farmhouse smelled of damp wood and the faint ghost of last night’s coffee. He didn’t turn on the lights. The world outside was a watercolor painting in soft grays and deep, wet greens. rainy good morning
He braced himself for a whisper, a cough, a sigh. Then, with a final, breathy pop , the cage opened
He knew what sound he would trap in the cage next. It wouldn't be a goodbye. It would be the deep, sleepy laugh his little daughter made when he tickled her belly. A sound that, on some far-off rainy morning, would feel like a resurrection. with a final