It was again in the expansive flower meadow that I awoke this morning. I felt the gentle touch of the early breeze on my skin. A pale blue color was cast across the clear, brilliant sky as the sun rose somewhat but had not yet reached 15 degrees. I woke up feeling like I'd just escaped from a terrifying nightmare. All throughout this seemingly unending meadow grew tall, peculiar plants. Near where we had slept, a halo of colorful flowers with big, glowing petals encircled a brilliant purple center, and a few towering trees with bluish-green trunks stood like ancient watchmen. It seemed like they were planting a kiss of sunshine on the dawn.
Awakening, I sat bolt upright. I was awakened before I was completely conscious by the sunlight striking my face as I slept. The herbal remedy I took the day before made my body feel much better today. After yesterday's exploration of the meadow and river for supplies, we cooked and drank enough to keep us well-nourished.
This is making me yawning. Just like the day before, I stole a quick glimpse at Aunt May, who had gotten up early. At this point, I watched as she hurriedly plucked leaves off a tree that had broad, silvery leaf. The meadow seemed to float in a mystical tranquility as the leaves glistened like glass, reflecting a gentle light. As Aunt May kindly stuffed the leaves into a leather pouch that dangled from her waist, I gazed on in wonder.
My gaze shifted from my own form to Aunt May's. Mine hurt like hell, but hers was slowly getting better. My mind wandered to the possibility that Aunt May had been here longer than I had since that terrible event.
My train of thought was abruptly interrupted when Aunt May's voice urged me to take her herbal cure. As soon as she caught sight of me observing her from a distance, she responded, "Good morning, dear," with a soft grin.
I began to watch Aunt May more intently as the days passed, and I silently thought, "The way she cares for me and greets me every morning... Aunt May feels just like my own mother." I felt my heart softening toward her.
My Aunt May gave me a mild reprimand for daydreaming. She smiled and asked, "What's on your mind, my darling?" despite her seeming perplexion. "After you've drunk the herbal concoction I prepared yesterday, you can tell me what's upsetting you."
Not at all, Aunt May; I just shook my head in response. I simply cannot express how much I appreciate you. I remarked, "I was just thinking... you feel like my own mother," and then I laughed timidly.