(no subject)
Wind swept her dusky tresses into loops and curls and her eyes spoke softly of the sunset. Against the fiery sky she stood holding her breath, almost blending into the canvas painted behind her. Evenings like these were rare, when the setting sun would paint the sky resplendent shades of pink and orange, purple and blue. Until the sun touched the tops of the distant hills she'd wait in silence, listening hopefully for the final call of the sparrows before disappearing into oblivion. This marked the crashing of the giant orb into her reality ... this was her ritual.