Silence pervaded bitterly, except for the hissing sound of the tall palm tree stretching out from the double glazed window in her bedroom. The steady wind played with its swaying fronds tapping them right and left, and up and down. They surrendered to its smooth blows, embracing those instances of natural bonding, an amalgamation of movement and sound, composing the symphony of a shadowy, yet, warm fall morning. She could decipher a twittering echo of birds here and there merging with the rise and fall in the rhythm of the bulky multi-layered palm tree, oscillating in the grayish cloudy reflection of the sky. From time to time, a clear sound of cracking twigs played on to add additional tempo to a crowning ambiance. High pitched as it was, it echoed her own breakdown.
by Mongia El Abed
Mongia lives in Tunis, Tunisia and is a teacher, mother, and an aspiring writer. In her free time, she loves listening to music, singing, reading books and, most of all, writing.
Photo credit: Mongia El Abed