Science Fiction Micro Fiction
The seasons tell us that the festival of Ethelochory is here and we have been up all night, putting the finishing touches to our festival bicycles, because scattering seeds to the wind is our responsibility now.
When it comes, we are ready for the dawn, hungry for sunshine. Breakfast is served to eager, sparring mouths all along the communal table, and on the kitchen floor for the more-than-human residents, purring and barking too.