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✞ Do you believe? Do you fade like a dream?
Let me hear you breathe ✞
--- *** --- --- The Next Morning --- --- 21st of December, 1964 ---
As soon as the midnight's vibrantly profound twilight bled into the wee hours of the morning, the honey-mouthedly mirthful birdsongs stitched the numbness's patchy hollow outdoors as the gracefully melliflous tunes pierced the walls of the privately owned property. Vastly luster snow fantastically settled on bare branches, window boards and anywhere else where it could be amenable for the newfangled guest to find its new cozy home after the perkily vehement dance of the swarm of snowflakes in the thin air. A weak glacial wind gingerly puffed the light-heavy branches and anything that equated to vulnerable in its weight due to the vicious winter climate.
The promisingly inviting, satin snuggle you and Timothy traded its ethereally timeless, down-to-earth hours during your iron-willedly brass rest through the nocturnal episode engulfed you in a miniaturely cozy bubble of your own world and realm stitching protectively your very muscles and very hurricane of thoughts. Contagiously fleshy warmness hypodermically rippled your tender fleshes as your pressed bodies managed to choir the tandem. Warm breaths faintly, welcomingly fanned each other's earlobes and napes of your necks.
The relentlessly vindictive ebony darkness with its thickly rigid, shapeless mantles swathing the site as its own children of the darkness. The dear children of the darkness kipping beyond nonchalantly, scarcely daring to care if even somebody is going to venture up inside the site and banish their very lives out of their motionless figures with its own bare, fiendishly bloodthirsty hands that were coated in its thickly marvelous baptize of the scrumptiously cloying blood.
Once you were abysmally dipped aimlessly in the stormy tempest of its monumental waves innundating your wild reverie where your current location was solemnly established until you came to your senses, consequently the former aspiring Monsignor woke up beneath the brassly dim silver stream of the early morning embracing him in the company of the honey-mouthed birdsongs tickling his delicate, vulnerable ears. Manifesting to straightening his posture and seating on the edge of the bed after flipping vehemently on the other side, releasing himself from the promisingly warm, doting embrace of your silken arms in series of non-verbal protests as the grip reined off unceasingly, he fashioned his mammoth, pristinely milky hands into balled fists to knead his groggy eyes and then muffling gracefully with the palm of his hand a yawn that curled upon his lip.
Sooner or later, everybody were presumed to no longer roll their bodies up underneath the comfy blankets of the apovalytically succumbing comfort through the inexorably frigid hours ticking unnervingly and light-headedly accomodating to any daily episode. Of course, everybody had their own daily celestially eminent goals for today and they ventured up inside the chromatic trance leaking their sheer brilliance to shimmer extraordinarily luminous of their determination!
