a girl named..

ginny cracked an eye open, a little afraid she might break the spell if she opened her eyes too quickly. the sunlight streaming in in shredded strips through the broken windows cast her room in gold.

she didn't dare stir.


watching her tin ceiling through her lashes she imagined how she must look if someone were to stand at the boarded doorway, watching her. how her hair must glow and how ethereal she must look - she must look like a princess - no, like a fairy - awakening from her fair, delicate slumber.


...it made spending nights on the hard floor in the hay worth it. almost worth it.

slowly, and a touch unwillingly, she opened her eyes fully and laid there a while more.


it was nice being woken up by the sun, she thought, but i have to wake, and waking up means taking myself off the floor.



and the day thus begins.