(Every thing about this place belongs to her and she to it. Is it real? Or is it about the Man?) Read on . . .After bathing, Shay put on a soft white silk robe and made her way to the bedroom. A gentle fire crackled in the fireplace. It kissed each brick, bringing a warm reddish glow to this magical place.
Was she dreaming? She dare not ask. Time stopped in this place where peace was plenty and joy flowed in abundance—finally, a chance to rest in a sea of comfort.
As her eyes closed, she noticed an old wooden rocking chair and pictured her mother rocking her to sleep as a child to ease the pain of scraped knees or hurtful words from insensitive friends. It moved to and fro when a gentle breeze whispered through the open doors. Once again the mild fragrance of roses and jasmine enchanted her through the sheer curtains as she drifted into blissful sleep.
To be continued . . .
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