Esther Chilton’s writing prompt this week is birds.

We gather near the same fire, drawn by warmth and shared smoke. Our laughter sounds familiar, echoes of each other, as if one soul split itself into many bodies just to be understood.

Like birds, we move in groups, invisible strings tying wrist to wrist, habits to hearts, songs we all somehow know the chorus to.

One believes, the others echo. One fears, the rest retreat. The comfort of commonness can be louder than truth.

We dress alike without meaning to, repeat phrases like passwords, sit at the same tables, even when the chairs pinch.

Difference stands at the edge — noticed, but not invited. Sometimes it imitates flight just to be allowed to land.

Among birds, safety is flight in formation. Among humans, it’s approval wrapped in a smile. Flocking feels like belonging until someone wants to turn against the wind.

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