13 December 2012
The dead tree stood out against the silver moon. It was almost full. In the centre of the tree she was thinking, making her remember. She was unaware of anything other than her thoughts. The owl on one of the gnarled branches hooted, snapping her back into consciousness. She feels cold. It had been cold when she came out, but she had been too numb to notice it. Se decided to head home, before she was noticed to be missing. She climbed out of her sanctuary, and started to run barefoot across the dew covered grass. Her hair was billowing out behind her like a wave of gold, the colour changing shades dramatically in the ever changing light. She climbed through her open window an tumbled onto her bed. She looked at the clock on the wall and heaved a sigh of relief. 5:30, another hour in bed before she had to get up. Get up to the horrors of facing the rising sun
The Rising Sun (Part 1) • Opuss № I