Cassie Binegar
“He hung it from the porch hook and filled it with sunflower seeds. Cassie saw this from her perch up a small pine tree nearby. She had not meant to be up the tree when he arrived. It had just happened. And now there was no coming down until he left.
Cassie’s mother walked up the path and into the hidden yard where the small cottage stood.
“Is everything all right?” she called to him.
“Fine.” He turned and smiled at her. “First things first. I’m feeding the birds.”
“Come for dinner tonight,” sai...d Cassie’s mother. “You can meet everyone. Then we’ll leave you on your own.”
Cassie’s mother went off again, humming to herself. When she had disappeared, the writer walked over to the tree and looked up.
“You can come down now, little bird.”
Cassie sighed and climbed down the tree.
“I didn’t mean it. This time,” she added, red-faced.
The writer smiled at her and held out his hand.
“I’m Jason.”
“I know. The writer. I’m Cassie.” Cassie took his hand.MoreLess
Cassie’s mother walked up the path and into the hidden yard where the small cottage stood.
“Is everything all right?” she called to him.
“Fine.” He turned and smiled at her. “First things first. I’m feeding the birds.”
“Come for dinner tonight,” sai...d Cassie’s mother. “You can meet everyone. Then we’ll leave you on your own.”
Cassie’s mother went off again, humming to herself. When she had disappeared, the writer walked over to the tree and looked up.
“You can come down now, little bird.”
Cassie sighed and climbed down the tree.
“I didn’t mean it. This time,” she added, red-faced.
The writer smiled at her and held out his hand.
“I’m Jason.”
“I know. The writer. I’m Cassie.” Cassie took his hand.MoreLess
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