A Quiet Place

This week's RemembeRed prompt:  Where is your quiet place?  What does it look like?  What happens there?  Word limit is 200. 

 

It was long past midnight.  

I leaned back, my neck resting on top of the cushioned seat.  My fingers, uncurling from their positions on the computer keys, intertwined above my head as I stretched my arms upward.  I gave out an involuntary sigh.

   

Muted lights from the pool below cast shadows that danced outside my windows.  I breathed in deeply, noticing subtle traces of stargazer lilies emanating from the reed diffuser I had placed nearby.  Shades of pink--my favorite color--in mismatched prints and patterns, surrounded me.  Pictures of my daughter, scattered all around the room, smiled at me, warming my heart instantly. 

I smiled at the thought of my little one nestled underneath her blanket, most likely dreaming of pixie fairies and rainbow unicorns.  My other-half in the room next door, looking more like the man who fell in love with me than the one who broke my heart to pieces when he let his guards down in his sleep. 

The dimmed light from the chandelier washed over me like a halo.  Sitting behind the desk at the corner of my study, while the rest of the house was peacefully asleep, I thanked God and said my prayers.  I felt my faith restored, my hopes took flight, and all was right.  At that moment, when silence reigned and darkness ruled, contentment, so elusive during the day, was finally mine.