Her fingers tightened around the rusty chains that were holding her up. She was alone in the park, something she cherished. She started to swing lazily, not wanting to go high, just wanting to move. The wind started blowing her hair around her face and she looked up into the sky. The clouds were dark and rolling. She smiled just as the first drop of summer rain hit her nose. She loved the scent of rain in the air. The clap of thunder as it sounded somewhere in the distance. She leaned her head back, her dark hair wet and hanging almost to the ground. Her eyes closed as she listened, listened to the drops of moisture hit all around her. She felt strong hands lifting her up, up. The chains of the swing slipped through her tiny fingers. She heard a voice. “You’re safe now, my child.” And never again did she have to see the lightening strike.



A little something that I wrote.  Enjoy.







~ by lunafleur on December 17, 2010.

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