I lie in bed, windows wide open, listening to the dawn chorus.

High warbling songs with trembling notes and trills. Tunes full of repeated whistles as well as gorgeous, fluting, melodious refrains.

It signifies the start of another day.

My diagnosis was terminal but, like the birds, I’m still alive.

Christine Reeves has always wanted to write a novel, so far an unfulfilled ambition. To help develop her skills she started Creative Writing classes, but soon realised a novel was a distant dream. She now concentrates on flash fiction and very short stories.