Joy

She smiled.

Raising her hand, full of birdseed, she offered it coyly to a willy-wagtail. It chirped and hopped, its tail ever-swinging as it flitted by and by. The girl laughed, a rich melody, sweet as a golden harp as she followed it, hopping on one leg, her hand outstretched. It eyed her, wagging and wagging incessantly, letting out a mellifluous chirp. Still giggling, she tossed the seed into her garden, and it fell like droplets of earth and grain. She sat back with a delicate smile set on her lovely face, her cheeks touched by a rosy countenance. The sun filtered through the swaying trees, causing shifting beams of gold to dance across the ground. A pool of liquid sapphire shimmered like a mirage, the little flecks of light weaving in and out one another as if in dance. The flowers had never smelled as sweet, nor the grass quite ever as green.

She crossed her eyes as she glared at a few strands of hair that had fallen loose from her hairband. Laughing flippantly, she tossed her head and tucked the golden threads behind her ears. She curled her toes through the grass, shivering as a wave of pleasure ran through her spine. The willy-wagtail pecked at the seed, and in return, chirped for her- a sweet and rolling melody as private thanks.

A hand rested on her shoulder, not at all startling her (for what was there to be startled by?) and she turned to look up at its owner. A fair man stood behind her, his eyes kind and his touch warm. A loved uncle, probably, who had come to admire the day. Their mouths did not move, except to smile, but the message was unmistakable.

“My, how beautiful is life, no?”

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