Skylar had been a morning person since the day she was born.. She had always felt wistful glee sitting in her garden as some of the days first sunlight caressed her alabaster skin and coppery brown hair. Winter mornings especially, where the crisp early chill would tighten her skin in waves of goose bumps until a few golden drops would hit her freckled skin and relax her whole body.
In the mornings everything is so crisp and clear; colours, shapes, sounds, smells, movements and textures. The noisy inefficient flap of a doves wings, the smell of the earth as the sun begins to warm it’s mass while it is still damp from the night before.
She’d sit at her table, coffee perched in front of her with a book in her lap and a handful of golden liquid amber sunlight to play with and run between her fingers.
Some urban fantasy, a sun witch maybe? Anyway, hopefully I’ll be back to posting stuff more frequently than I have been recently and getting back into the ’bubble’s community. Enjoy, excuse the rusty quill.