It's early morning. The rain's stopped to just a drizzle now, and it's a comforting back drop to the scene she's living. Pen in one hand, paper in the other. Hair up in that messy confusion of frizz and curls. If only the fire hadn't gone out. Bliss and perfection. Her legs curled up underneath her, maroon yarn wrapped tight as her mind begins to tumble and create. Sipping hot cocoa, warm and soothing. She's caught a marshmallow and a crystal laugh escapes her. These are the happy moments, these are the fleeting emotions.
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