A soft golden glow reached through the open window as night grew to mourn. The silken curtains pushed to the side by the cold morning wind. The clip clop of a horse and the creak of wood softly blending with the cries of birds. Pushing herself off the bed that called longingly for her as she rose. Looking out on the barren earth, covered in a thick rug of snow and dotted here and there with trees, she closed the window. She moved sluggishly towards the door to her room, her bare feet never really leaving the floor. Opening her door, it creaking on the ice cold hinges, she walked out to the living room. What would today bring? The purple and golden sky fleeing from the warm morning sun.
Categories:
Morning Glow
January 22, 2025
A morning sunrise.
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