It had been a hard day, for some reason. No earthquakes or tornadoes or devastating news, but it seemed as if a spirit of evil or a spiteful sprite had been present. A prickling word here, a worrisome conversation there, an unsettled, fearful feeling of something just out of sight, something left un-done, something that should be righted.
The sun sank to its bed and the sparrows returned to their nighttime rest in the honeysuckle vine. Bird feeders were empty, lights came on in houses, cars pulled into garages for the night. The peace of a finished day fell over everything, a hush, a sigh, time to put the day away.
Morning would come. The day was over. Fears would turn to faith. The earth was still revolving, and hope would return with the sunrise. All was well.
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