Scramblings : Dewy

Dewy grass tickles underneath my feet. Morning silence is interspersed with chirping of birds. The misty curtains are rising. Living begins again.

While the night had bathed the place in regal attires, the morning intensifies the imperial splendor.

The night was cold. Or maybe I was numb. Perhaps sweating. Possibly shivering. But, definitely disquieting.

The visions from the late evening kept replaying. Like a video on “repeat current” mode. The stop button was stuck.

What had happened there, Avli? And where on the earth, was my phone?

I am sure that guard knew about it. Liar.

Correction read, stately guard.

Linking with Velvet Verbosity: 100 words: Dewy

Excerpt from the NaNoWriMo challenge : Sombre Sojourn