Mindful writing challenge 2 - Chorus line

 The satellite dish is stinging as it sings, clipping my red raw ears. A light pitched scream of ecstasy for the new year, above and beyond the robins of the dawn chorus line. Closer, in the dim light, dark shadows blink above peeling paintwork. Auto-tune, the birds nearby shriek the decibels through the delicate lace mesh, camouflage. Who can tell?

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