The sun peered over the gray horizon, tentatively nudging the world awake like a late-arriving husband afraid to incur his wife’s wrath. The dark trunks of the apples and willows in the orchard released eerie wraiths of steam that wisped into the air, escaping their earthly prisons. Mist made a soft carpet across the sward, and the faint crackling of ice-covered grasses thawing in the sun’s caress peppered the silence. Was today the day? Every morn since John’s death, she’d completed the spring ritual, coming to the garden at dawn to kick off her boots, press her toes into the cool mulch, and wait for the familiar sensations. But winter seemed exceptionally stubborn this year, dragging on and on without the merest stirring of life beneath the soil. She cleared her thoughts and waited. Nothing. She wiggled her toes. Nothing. She closed her eyes. Nothing but cold, hard ground, still and silent. Perhaps spring would never come, she thought dismally. She sighed and bent down to retrieve her boots.
What do You think about Knights Of De Ware 03 - My Hero?
