[Image sourced from thegroundofmyheart.com]
She awoke to the sound of rain. It was
her favourite morning music; reverse
lullaby. She’d wriggle down deeper in
the bed, pull the duvet up beneath her
chin and sigh contented. No need to rise
on days like this, she’d drift back off to sleep.
The rooftop percussion encased her, a
cocoon of sound permitting return to dreams –
but changed. Though her mind sought the sweet image
of before, this new, stolen dormancy
brought darker thoughts: changed faces, blurred concerns
in foggy form lent by external climes
to her Morpheus-soaked brain. Outside the
rain fell harder. Her room fell chill and dark.
[Copyright N R Nolan © 2015]