Reclining comfortably, cradled between the arms of supple yet worn brown leather, the old woman surrendered to the call of her body, slowly closing her eyes, long lashes fluttering in momentary indecision.
Mid-afternoon sunlight, filtered by the occasional late summer cumulus, cast playful shadows about the small room, the room she’d always referred to as her “library”, the one room in her comfortable cottage she felt most at home.
Half the library was lined with overstuffed bookshelves, reaching floor to ceiling, their rich darkness complimenting the butter creme walls; she was looking forward to a relaxing afternoon of reading until she realized just how tired she felt.
It was as if magical raindrops cleansed and crystallized her memory followed by a gentle peace that swept over and through her like a warm and gentle breeze.
Drifting toward unconsciousness, she felt as if her body lay “floating”, suspended on a pillow of dense air.
Supported by an unidentifiable force, she relaxed and began to dream until she relinquished herself to the dream…the last milestone.