Ficlets

A Morning Blaze

It was morning. At least she thought it was morning. The curtains cast an orange glow upon her bedroom and the light lifted sweet fragments of night from her skin. Had she slept at all? Her feet were wrapped up in satin sheets. Her head had carved a deep dreamscape space in her pillow. She did not want to wake up. Living in the sweet inbetween of today and tomorrow—that was where she would stay. Is there no place more comforting than the unknown? She wasn’t certain at this point. She tried to open her eyes. She simply couldn’t. Not even the promise of warm blue droplets of water on her body could inspire her to rise. Not now. Today was not going to be a good day. She could tell already. She slowly opened her eyes. She reluctantly gazed out of her window. The orange glow she had felt, wasn’t the sun rays at all. Not even close. It was fire. The sky was on fire. Red. Orange. Havoc, chaos and death reigned outside of her window. She sighed. Smiling to herself, she crawled back into her dark bed and slept.

View this story's 2 comments.