Daughter

By Jason Crowell

My 6-year-old daughter came into my bedroom and woke me up, whispering that she heard something scratching on her bedroom window. The clock showed 2:13 in the morning as I headed down the hallway, her behind me. I slid into her bedroom, crept to the window, and peeled back the curtain. I saw my daughter, the same daughter, staring back at me. I heard her bedroom door slowly shut behind me. I closed my eyes, only to awaken in my own bed. I looked at the clock. It was 2:12 as my bedroom door creaked open.

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“I write to convey thoughts and experiences, and it’s also therapeutic.” – the writer