Sunday, March 1, 2009

In the Sunlit Room

In the sunlit room, Amanda cozied herself into a corner and read, propped between a pillow and an afghan gathered at her ankles. The sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden halo on her head and chair.

Outside the wind blew with piercing strength and trees bowed low. The waves sprayed high and clouds circumferencing this sun stream were dark and threatening.

But for Amanda, this was the eye of the storm. This was the perfect calm of peace when all around is raging.

The events depicted in this paragraph are fictious. Any similarity to any living person is merely coincidental. No books were harmed in the making of this paragraph.

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