Write about your own secret treehouse hideaway.

a small green leaf floating past, the breeze is much more refined up here
the stairs to the treehouse creaked, lazily
through the window, the sun shone brightly
highlighting my project, a wind chime made from forest findings
no one could disturb me here, in my quiet place
though the wind might try.

the double doors swing slowly open and shut
the cool air comes and goes, my determination doesn’t waver
a feather, a clump of dead leaves, a bundle of twigs, fresh vines
I work and work until sweat pours down my back in concentrated streams
there’s freedom in my hiding place
where no one could find me if they tried.

“Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.”