The workday is ended. Its my time now. A time to sink into half-waking dreams… Scented pines around, and ahead, the dying embers of the wood fire, plates of the finished supper still scattered. The country silence broken by Sara retelling today’s events made epic as only she can, the others half listening, and the horses close behind, waiting for their turn at the fire.
The words grow and grow. Story after story. Adventure after adventure. So much that I don’t want to wake.