Jan 26, 2007
January Morning
As I opened my eyes sun beams poke through the curtains with such force dust particles dance in the air with every move. I squeeze the blankets up tight to my shoulders and rub my eyes. Tiny fuzzy bits outlined in golden sunshine are wafting from the ceiling all around the bed. With every move they dance back up on air currents swirling, dipping, drifting on the remnants of my dream, slow motion snow flakes. Feathers. Down Feathers. A hole ripped in the comforter in the middle of the night.
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3 comments:
That was a beautiful paragraph. Sorry about the duvet though.
thank you - it was a beautiful morning until realization set in
I was thinking, how poetic, what a beautifully talented writer Jenny is! And then, I laughed and laughed. It has not been a good winter for comforters in my corner of the world.
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