Part 39
Darcy quietly unlocked the green chipped door and made her way up stairs to her room. Throwing her bag on the chair, she looked out of the window. The night sky was aglow and the pavements bore the evening dew like a satin haze. Changing into her robe, she padded barefoot down to the kitchen for a cup of cocoa.
She didn’t bother switching on the light, preferring to work by the glow of the streetlights as they filtered through the window and bathed the room in a soft yellow glow. The kitchen was a cosy place, the heart and soul of the building.
Under kettle, flickering flame
Sputters soft in twilight hues
Mellow song, as warmth intrudes
its metal base, a calming ruse.
And curled upon the kitchen chair
A bird reflects night’s fulsome flair
Which soothes and comforts, speaks of life
Bestows an air of amity
A feeling never known before
Being part of a community
Whose heart are warm, their minds ajar
Misfits born of who they are
As she sat at the scrubbed wooden table in the darkness, waiting for the kettle, Darcy thought of all the people she had met since arriving in the city and she marvelled at the variety of personalities. It was such a different world to that which she left behind. She couldn’t help thinking of how shocked Mrs Judd would have been, if she could see Darcy now. Suddenly the kettle whistled, making her jump. She poured hot water over cocoa and added milk, then made her way back to her room.
That night Darcy dreamed of flamboyant, colourfully dressed people all laughing and talking and waving great scarlet handkerchiefs at her. She had barely been asleep for twenty minutes when the dream nudged her awake and left her mind full of the images of the evening. One image in particular at the foremost.
Solace to a fledgling mind
Too restless to succumb to sleep
Full of possibilities
Which surge to surface from the deep
Where once a child had hopes and schemes
All born of wondrous childish dreams
And now whose dreams are more mature
P’raps paved with chance and fortitude
With new ideas of hope and love
Rid’ on the back of faith accrued
And there, amid the future’s throng,
Green eyes sparkle, bright and strong.
.
.
.
