Priscillia

Ladybird

Sunlight came in as woven strands, that dawned through the windowpanes of Alouette’s bedroom. She squinted in its glimmering presence, whisking her head to the other side of her room with her scarlet locks flanking at almost every angle around her head. Nature’s lullaby sprung in next. White noises were always something the redhead despised; she was a light sleeper, after all. Then, the door crashed open.