She laid in the bed.
Her light hair fell on her neck, on her shoulders and on her white, naked skin. She was half asleep. The morning sun shone on her skin, soflty warming her back. The white bed sheets laid all around her like angel wings or the soft, beautiful petals of a white lili. A light, dull wind escaped from the bow-window, and echoed on her ear like a tiny whispered lullaby.
Somewhere, in the city, a bird sang. The morning glowed in a yellow shine, that lost itself in her wavy hair. Her fair skin shivered slightly as she thought she had heard a noise, but there wasn't any. A shiver ran down her spine, and she got gosebumps, but the sweet, beautiful morning light quickly relaxed her again. It was alright. Everything was fine. She got back to sleep.
In a corner of the room laid her favorite, white shirt.
Torn.
