LOVE IN A SUNBEAM (1)



She was by the riverside, listening to music and eating her snacks. She had on a white garment that was dancing to the tune of the wind. The cool breeze was what kept her glued to her seat by the river side; she liked it, she loved it. Beneath her was a log of wood which held her whole
weight with no form of stress. Her earphones were doing their job, making the best of a song she loved. She wasn’t just listening to the song; she was playing the chords with her guitar, which sat comfortably on her laps.
       There was nothing on her feet, no flip-flop, no shoe and no boot. All she had was that white soft garment, her ear phones, her guitar and the white coloured cake that was on a stool in front of her. And nature gave her its best, putting the icing on her cake, the roof on her house, the nails to her woods. Truly, her pleasure would be incomplete without the cool breeze intervention of nature.
       Suddenly, upon all the completion of the joy and happiness that nature brought, there arose from it destruction. As she sat in her comfort, a profuse heavy pour of water aided by a fierce northern wind rose from the ever known to be calm river and wiped away her joy. The sight of the immensely flowing of gushing waters left her with everything but her soul. Her ear phones, her guitar and the whole beauty of her cake were wiped away. She was left with nothing but terror in the emptiness of her soul. As if that was not enough, the waters came back and took away her white garment; she was left naked, homeless and hopeless……….
         Alice woke instantly from her dirty sleep; she had had a night mare again. It was the fifth she had had during her six hours sleeping hours that night. She pulled up her duvet and sat up with her back against the headboard. What had she done wrong to deserve all these? She looked to her right side and checked the clock radio. It was 5 O’clock in the morning. Happiness rose in her again for the joy of morning; a new day, new ideas, new smiles or so she thought. No dream can hurt her again, it was day now. She picked up her phone and switched it on. Some months ago, she had developed a habit of switching off her phone whenever she wanted to sleep. She had been thought by her father that it was necessary, to avoid distraction in all its forms and ramifications. Well, all that has proven to have a low rate of verisimilitude in the last couple of days, since the major distractions that affected her sleeping hours was not from her phone but from the frequent appearance of her unwelcome dreams.

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