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Weekly Contest #77
Warmth. All I knew was warmth. My fingers curled around the tendrils of grass that swayed in the serene summer weather. Peace. My eyes met the rays of light that broke through the sea of leaves that swooshed and swayed above me. One hand reached to the blue sky, as if walking on the sunny rays. The sun always shone. No waking nor sleeping moment was void of the fiery friend. It was never hot, only, warm. My mass of yellow curls was often admired. The compliments derived from the way they tribute the sun. Oh, the sun, never dim. In fact, an...
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