She'd never have chosen these mossy green walls - not in a million paint chips. And yet, now that she was experiencing them, she wouldn't change them for all the blue in the sea.
The oak trees shimmer outside the wide window - their new leaves joyously soaking in the sun, softening its eventual arrival. She laughs watching the dappled shadows on the walls and floor, appreciating the darkness as well as the light.
What stories these worn oak floors could tell. The aging boards so related to and yet distant from the young leaves outside. Their warm yellow glow balancing the calm green. Their firmness contrasting the tender spring growth.
She stretches across the island of the bed, crisp cotton quickly warming under her. She glances at books stacked on the nightstand, at pictures meandering the desktop, at her jewelry box with that one necklace that always pokes out.
Oh sweet sanctuary, she sighs. And her heavy eyes nod, the walls absorb the realities of her life. The heavy metal door, locked from the outside, dissolves. And for those few moments she is free.
Write On Edge prompt:
The prompt for this week is to use setting to deepen the development of your story ...
You have 250 words, so make them count!