From: Dragon Writing Prompts: Sparklers
Word Count: 238
Notes: Just something calm. Most of the words are directly in there, but a few are more implied.
*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*
I opened the door to my house and walked out onto the porch. The swing was still damp with rain droplets, but I sat down on it anyway. The quiet creaking began as I began to swing slowly. My feet rolled on and off the ground in a steady pattern.
I have always liked to sit outside after thunderstorms. There's something awfully mystic about that time, especially if the sun is down and all the stars are just starting to pop into existence for another night. The luminous light of the moon is everywhere, like a persistent morning fog. The air is sharp and clean, almost like a peppermint after eating nothing but lettuce. Yet, the most striking thing is that all the anxiety of the world has melted away. Into nothing but a lovely night, it seems.
Glory, my fluffy excuse for a cat, meows at me. Her voice is mediocre compared to Hallelujah, her brother. He soon joins her, his melodious mews somehow managing to turn Glory's pathetic attempts into perfect harmony. The two of them jump up onto the swing, hissing at the wetness. They squeeze onto my lap and curl up into tiny circles. Purring now, Glory far outshines her counterpart. Her purr is deep and rumbling, strong and soothing. I immerse my fingers in their fur, scratching their backs.
Purrs increase, and somehow they remind me of the thunder that just passed on.
I have always liked to sit outside after thunderstorms. There's something awfully mystic about that time, especially if the sun is down and all the stars are just starting to pop into existence for another night. The luminous light of the moon is everywhere, like a persistent morning fog. The air is sharp and clean, almost like a peppermint after eating nothing but lettuce. Yet, the most striking thing is that all the anxiety of the world has melted away. Into nothing but a lovely night, it seems.
Glory, my fluffy excuse for a cat, meows at me. Her voice is mediocre compared to Hallelujah, her brother. He soon joins her, his melodious mews somehow managing to turn Glory's pathetic attempts into perfect harmony. The two of them jump up onto the swing, hissing at the wetness. They squeeze onto my lap and curl up into tiny circles. Purring now, Glory far outshines her counterpart. Her purr is deep and rumbling, strong and soothing. I immerse my fingers in their fur, scratching their backs.
Purrs increase, and somehow they remind me of the thunder that just passed on.
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