She was lured too far to the edge, lunging out into light from the darkness she had been quarantined in. Step by step she closed the gap between destination and desire, thumping her cane along her side. Just beyond the curve, steps from the rail, slowly she sank into her chair. Instantly, she relaxed under the heat of the sun, and gradually became herself once more.
Baring winter’s soft white skin during mid-day, she sat long in the light, exposing herself to the elements of danger, hoping to get the dark hue she once had as a child. Minute by minute, and hour by hour, the shade swallowed her whole, revealing a pink tone, she least remembers ever experiencing.
So it is with gentle care, she rose, heat attached to her now tender legs, and disappeared, thumping her cane into the shadows, once again quarantining herself from the light.
Keystroke Stories 