The rainbow: a beginning, middle, and end all in less than 200 worlds.
I stretched out on the freshly washed grass. Newly scythed wheat fields smelled of bread and wildflower. The downpour, soaked me to the skin, even my heavy apron couldn’t hide the contours of my body.
The rain freshened the stream too, just as my thoughts of you quicken my luxuria. Soon, through the door, though the rainbow you would step, amethyst eyes only on me; wrap in a shawl of sunglint colours.
Damn the nuns; I was already damned by you. The dark walk down the avenue to met you, again, here gave me time to think. How to tell you about my shy smile, and my other, our other tiny life.