She heard the whispers of tiny voices. If she tried, she could separate the gnomes from the fairies; the sprites from the imps; the animals from the flowers. But, she didn’t really feel like expending the mental energy.
If she opened her eyes, she knew she would see balloons and bubbles float by; watch butterflies dance the tango; peek at the hide and seek games in the tree branches above. But she was much too content to lay on the comfortable bed stuffed with the softest eider down and piled high with cushions for physical exertion.
She let her extended family place a crown of flowers upon her dark-haired head. If she breathed deeply, the perfume of the blooms would give away their names. But that moved her away from the comfort inertia she had adopted for the day.