For the next part of this series, please click here (Back to Red: Part One).
Grey. eyes lazily opened allowing Tuesday’s mid-morning sun to sear through the sliver of Sandra’s retinas that her eyelids had reluctantly exposed. A grumble was muffled as she turned her features into the musty, but still technically clean pillow that had been kept warm by the side of her face. Sweet relief washed over her as darkness flooded her sight. Light was the enemy at this point, but it hadn’t always been. In fact, the way the light blossomed into a healthy glow through the open white-painted Plantation shutters within the room was one of the reasons why she had purchased the Hyde Park bungalow in South Tampa. Above was the soft strumming of the large ceiling fan accompanied by the intermittent clink of its pull chain dancing against its frosted glass light fixtures shaped like lilies. Still, her body nagged at her.
Wearing a pair of lightweight cotton drawstring pyjama pants and her favourite oversized University of Miami t-shirt, she managed to find the perfect temperature for the bed sheet to be pulled up around her shoulders. With the air conditioning set to seventy-two and the fan going, anything exposed was frosty whilst everything under cover remained slightly toasty. Maybe if she just lay there quietly for a few minutes her body would relent as she drifted back off to sleep. Turning her face so that her cheek could cuddle into the pillow, a lighter shade of darkness now pressed into her covered vision. With her left arm and leg tossed across a large U-shaped pillow that was as long as she was tall, Sandra gripped the comfy cushion and waited for rest to retake her.
The pressure and pains in her lower abdomen persisted and the brunette sighed frustratedly. Sandra had to go to the bathroom. She wasn’t about to lay in her own piss as this would’ve ruined the very lovely mattress that had been serving up cloud nine relaxation for the last few weeks. It was the most plush of jail cells this side of a padded room. The house was silent and still all but for the ceiling fan and the circulating air via the handler hidden in a closet on another floor. She had missed the pleasant melodies of the morning birds hopping along their branches in the massive Oak tree planted just outside in the front yard. Even in the state she was in, the pleasantness of the birds’ songs was still able to touch her heart as her headboard shared a wall with them. Sometimes this was a welcomed moment of brightness. On other days, like this one, she was relieved to have not heard them at all. Something so sweet and free as birds proved to be too painful in certain moments.Continue reading “Back to Red: Prologue”