It was May and she knew her mother was dying. She’d die in August. She was nineteen and very impressionable. Every summer since then, she’d go storm hunting. She’d find love in the twisted reflections in the rain puddles. She knew that when it was over, she’d be whole again.
Kapka Nilan currently lives in England where she writes, takes pictures of out-of-place things, and looks after an old spirit animal.
Tapping up and down against my window, wing flapping, wild chirping. I thought this little bird must be hungry. I go outside with seeds and water. It refuses any of my offerings. In a frenzy, it keeps attacking its own reflection on the glass until one of them drops dead.
Kapka Nilan was born in Bulgaria and lives in the UK. She lives between languages and likes spending time crafting little stories. Her flash and microfiction have been featured in Bath Flash Fiction Award Anthology 2018 and online.