Dax peered into the miniature cage. “What’s with the cricket?”
Lydia shrugged. “Old family superstition. First cricket found in the house brings you good luck.”
“I thought that was bad luck,” Dax frowned and left the room.
Lydia smiled into the cage. “Sing sweetly tonight, my little harbinger of doom.”
#Writeober #50WordFiction
S.T. Marie 