Doodles of my mind

A Story by Anne Moone

Just something that popped into my head after watching a really good movie.

The golden sun beamed a warm yellowish hue as it sat amid against the ivory billow of cloud. In the the distance carillon rings at the start of the fading dawn and a chorus arises singing the hymnal Aurora Jam Spargit Polum (morning shines with eastern light), befitting of the primeval basilica. Like a beacon she draws mortals to her bowel and constrict their souls of guiltful sin. It seems almost rhythmic and riveting the tune, so soft and inviting, not that I ever gave in to it, but its seems so pristine. I often find that I write with absolute clarity and relax well into noon in its midst.

There is a presence of heat as the sun has arisen into noon and the once silent streets are bustled with people. The sounds of industrial machines and the current of pedestrian chatter reflect about the walls into my ears. I am still sitting by the window though undeterred from my mission of relaxation and warm bliss. As I look out into the mass of faces envy stirs my heart, those oblivious mortals going about their lives without concern. They were the lucky ones and though riches have afforded me pleasures I wish with some soulless selfishness to be free of responsibility.