A soft pat of her hand on your cold cheek assured you. So your | Sam Scribbles
A soft pat of her hand on your cold cheek assured you. So your body let itself relax into her lap, where your heavy head nested. Her palm moved to caress the scars embroidered on your face, neck and arms. The tingling warmth of her fingertips soothed the pain and slowly distilled it out of your body.
The comfort blew bubbles in your spine, making the cold quiver away. Her other hand cleared the tangles of your hair from your face, her thumb quietly sealing all the thorns into shy rose petals on your lips.
She started to sing. Her voice was mellow and light, driving the dreads from your head and out of your tiptoes. It was a refreshing, sincere tune, like a single sun ray breaking free from the clouds.
There were no words in her melody, but rather random vocals composed and knit together into a beautiful blanket covering your shadows away. Those whimsical sounds still cradled timid meanings in their arms, finally putting your heart to sleep.
You knew you still had to wake up later. But at that moment, it didn't matter. That's what her lullaby told you, it taught you that it's alright to close your eyes. So you surrendered your thoughts to the darkness pillow, embracing the last memory of her smile like a cuddle toy.
"Good night." The guardian mumbled, with that mystic, serene smile.
#JE (continuation to the post above)
