Rae Henry

Birdcage

Fall Cordelia stood by her window and thought of clothes. The view outside her apartment was the perfect place to contemplate such things because the building next door stood a mere four feet across the alley, its bricks blocking out any signs of life. Such a splendid view, she thought. A delicious blank canvas to imagine heaps of outfits that she could never afford. It was raining, racing droplets on the glass casting striped shadows over the freckled, fawn skin of Cordelia’s face. Her brown hair was frumpish from a night of restless sleep. But she was up at dawn. Up and thinking of clothes.