"Alice - The Five Senses - Duchess
The second set of related drabbles.
The Five Senses Series
There was, she had decided, no smell more pleasant then that of freshly cut grass. But not just any grass - it had to be mountain grass, watered with rain that had fallen from it's cloud only a second before and dried with strong crisp winds the blew straight from heaven - and not just cut any way - it had to be cut by an old man using a push powered mower who sang while he walked back and forth.
Hope knew there were many things that she should be doing, but she still gladly took the moment to smell the grass.
Meadow
The longer she simply lay there and let herself drift, the more the soft whisper of long grass brushing against one another became a kind of music. There were no papers to be read, no questions to be answered, there was only the grass that tickled her arms and hands.
Sweat
She knew that she had sweated before in her life - summer days spent outside in the sun at the Royal lodge or winter nights spent in bed with Jack sprang to mind - but never before had she seen a drop of sweat actually roll down her skin. She studied it for a moment before wiping the back of her arm on her apron and continuing on stirring the oatmeal for the children's breakfast.
Storm
All day the heat had been oppressive causing her clothes and hair to stick to her skin as she went about the daily tasks, even the children had been reluctant to move from the shade, but as the sky turned pink the whole world fell silent and not a thing moved.
As the darkness took hold a breeze came whipping along, causing the hair on her arm to stand on end and leaving the taste of lightning in her mouth.
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way
I have to go to bed by day.
Bed in Summer by Robert Louis Stevenson
It was nothing more then a silly poem, a little ditty to help the youngest children understand why they couldn't play even though the sun was still out, but the sound of laughter mingled with the childish chanting of that verse was the sweetest sound she could ever image hearing.
The Five Senses Series
There was, she had decided, no smell more pleasant then that of freshly cut grass. But not just any grass - it had to be mountain grass, watered with rain that had fallen from it's cloud only a second before and dried with strong crisp winds the blew straight from heaven - and not just cut any way - it had to be cut by an old man using a push powered mower who sang while he walked back and forth.
Hope knew there were many things that she should be doing, but she still gladly took the moment to smell the grass.
Meadow
The longer she simply lay there and let herself drift, the more the soft whisper of long grass brushing against one another became a kind of music. There were no papers to be read, no questions to be answered, there was only the grass that tickled her arms and hands.
Sweat
She knew that she had sweated before in her life - summer days spent outside in the sun at the Royal lodge or winter nights spent in bed with Jack sprang to mind - but never before had she seen a drop of sweat actually roll down her skin. She studied it for a moment before wiping the back of her arm on her apron and continuing on stirring the oatmeal for the children's breakfast.
Storm
All day the heat had been oppressive causing her clothes and hair to stick to her skin as she went about the daily tasks, even the children had been reluctant to move from the shade, but as the sky turned pink the whole world fell silent and not a thing moved.
As the darkness took hold a breeze came whipping along, causing the hair on her arm to stand on end and leaving the taste of lightning in her mouth.
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way
I have to go to bed by day.
Bed in Summer by Robert Louis Stevenson
It was nothing more then a silly poem, a little ditty to help the youngest children understand why they couldn't play even though the sun was still out, but the sound of laughter mingled with the childish chanting of that verse was the sweetest sound she could ever image hearing.