Northern lights

Sarah D

Australia

"He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown up." - J.M. Barrie

Message to Readers

Thanks for taking the time to read my piece. It is quite loosely based on the prompt, but I started writing it under the prompt so I just published it where it was. Constructive Criticism is always appreciated.
Thanks again.

Perceiving Ely

July 27, 2015

Her blonde hair curled around the taut plastic of the pool toy.
"I could float forever," she murmured to me, her voice soft like the ripples in the water.
I felt her delicate pinky link around my finger.
A little pull and we drifted closer together; legs brushing and knees knocking.
We stared high up above us at the twisted branches of the intertwining trees; the pale blue background framing them. They swayed and bent in the warm summer breeze, as if dancing to their own song.
The gentle rustle of the leaves and the warmth of the sun made my eyelids start to get heavy.
"Me too." I whispered, before letting my eyes fall shut.

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