A girl, of only a couple months past 17 sits delicately atop a wooden seat. Hums of parchment pass through her fingers as her glance dances across the story. White noise is replaced with the cradling sound of water hitting water, from the fountain in the pond. A pond laced with speckles of leaves; hiding the world that lay beneath.
Moments of loving breezes liven up the figure that rests beneath her sleeves. Every movement feels incompletely whole, leaving room for nothing but a momentary fanning, lifting her out of her book and straight ahead into the pond that forever, in recent days, has been the setting of her dreams.
Nothing shakes her or pulls her out of the moment. That is until the buzz of time forces her back to her feet.
YOU ARE READING
A collection of short stories
Short StoryHey so it's been a while since I've posted anything, and while my love for writing sure as hell has not faded, I can get distracted easily. So I've decided to write some short stories in my free time. I'll compile them into a single story but if you...
