It was the end of the day.
Boots and shoes left by door; cozy feet besocked and curled in front of a roaring blaze. Smells of cooking wafting through from the range, as stars twinkled brightly in the clear night sky. Tensions loosened; time slows. Exhale.
Soon it was time for bed; soft mattress of goose down awaited with luxurious pillows that felt like sinking for an eternity into snug guided comfort. Leaden heavy eyelids drooping, the sensation of sleep overcomes delight of dear ease.
Slowly.
Softly.
It was the end of the day.
Time to dream.
Goodnight,
Sweet dreams.
From the Compendium of One Hundred Word Stories
Words and animation: © DJA 2016.
The Angry Farmer 