17. Cherry Blossom
Author's Notes: A series of word and A.S. Byatt-inspired prompts.
At last, the air wrapped her in an embrace like a cloak instead of the wool to which she had become accustomed during this valley winter. She walked in the garden and stretched her shoulders, delighting in the play of under-used joints and tendons, the warmth on her arms and hair after days where the closest she came to warmth was tucked up as near the fire as she could without sitting in it or tucked up in bed, curled so tight on her side that she woke with aching knees and a stiff back.
There was looseness in her muscles now and a delightful anticipation. With the warming weather would come messengers, visitors, life and movement the way the Bruinen danced despite the crust of ice still clinging to its banks.
The trees were in bloom, and she carefully picked the tiny, white blossoms from her hair before she stepped back inside, slipping them into her pocket like a secret.
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