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A World out of Reach.

Writer's picture: Simple thoughtsSimple thoughts

The morning sun slowly danced on her

face. Rasheal, with her sleepy eyes still

closed, smiled as she rolled over in bed.

Her thin body shifted under her silky

sheets and outrageously heavy

comforter.



Every morning at 8:00 a.m., her large

luxurious, thick curtains automatically

opened in her bedroom. The sunlight

consistently always beamed through as

it shined on her, her bedroom decor,

fancy clothes and many books.


Rasheal had a simple, modern home.

In fact, it was a smart home delicately

placed on a bright green hillside. Her

home obeyed her commands and every

thing scheduled. It was just her and

her house and she liked it that way.


Though her home overflowed with

technology and fancy decor, she still

had a soft spot for vintage items and nature.

There wasn't a single room in her house

that did not at least have one live plant.


Rasheal daintily rose up from bed, as

if awakening from a from a 10 year sleep.

She pushed her thick brown hair out of

her face. She was one of the few lucky women

who could wake up looking decent. She did

not need any aid for her beauty. She had an

elegant, natural look with bright eyes and

skin that practically glowed.


Her perfectly pedicured feet, always

painted bright orange, touched the soft

plump rug beside her bed. Rasheal walked

unhurried to her mall size closet and picked

out her outfit. She slipped into black too tight

jeans and threw a sweatshirt over her head. She

loved oversized sweatshirts that practically

ate her whole.


As Rasheal headed to leave her bedroom, her

double doors automatically opened. As they

slowly opened, music began to flood all

around her. She loved piano instrumental

music. Music played throughout her home

24/7. She loved music and in fact was quite

the musician herself.


She walked with poise down her marble

swirled staircase. Her skinny, long fingers

slid down the staircase, feeling the smooth

cool marble underneath her fingertips. As

she descended, it felt as if the music always

loyally followed behind her.


As she headed to the kitchen, the smell

of French vanilla coffee overwhelmed her

nose. The double doors opened, inviting

her into her glorious kitchen. The kitchen was

huge and had cherry nut cabinets and

marbled counter tops. All of her dishes, pots

and pans were color coordinated.


Behind her dining table was a wall windows.

Rasheal's entire home leaked of color and life.


As her smart floor felt her light, warm presence,

it initiated powering on the stove as well as

unlocking the fridge.


After she had cooked her over easy

eggs on the stove, she had practically

downed her first cup of coffee. She placed

her mug in a small cubby in the wall. Within

seconds, coffee began to pour out into her

mug as well as creamer and topped off

with whipped cream.


After breakfast, Rasheal would always go

out on her porch. She liked the consistency

of being greeted by the morning sun before

her day began. This was her favorite part of

the day. She would sit outside for hours. She

would journal, write music, and other times just

sit and admire nature.


This was one of the many reasons she left her

world behind. She felt this was an art that was lost.

The ability to sit and be still.


She sat in her comfy lounge chair surrounded

by all of her plants, flowers and vegetation. For

miles, all she could see, were rich green hills. She

found immense comfort being alone. She found

comfort in being away from the business, chaos.

Rasheal had quickly grown weary of the busy, loud

life, endlessly chasing nothing. To her, it was pointless.

The closest form of civilization was an hour away

from her. She liked it that way.


When the wind blew, it flirted with her as

she got whiffs of lavender, mint and berries.

Though she was alone, she never feared nor

became tiresome. Rasheal leaned back and went

to take another sip of her coffee, then

everything went black.




Rasheal woke up to the harsh, cheap sound of

her alarm. Her bed creaked as she slowly got up,

untangling herself from her itchy sheets. Her dirty

feet made contact with the cool floor beneath her.

Her stomach growled as she hadn't eaten in days.


She turned around to dig in her small closet

to fetch her clothes. She had worn the same

thing for 365 days. She only owned one outfit,

pajamas, and a good winter coat.


After she got dressed, she made her way to

her favorite part of the house, her kitchen. Most

people would say their favorite was the kitchen

because of the food, but that wasn't the case

for Rasheal. She was always hungry but her

stomach constantly craved something more.


The kitchen was the only room in her home

that had a window. Her kitchen might've been

robbed of food but not robbed of the ability

to dream. She practically lived for that window

because of the feeling it gave her, escape. Any

regular person looking through the window would

only see people bickering, trashy streets, warn

down houses and lost dogs, but Rasheal chose

to see more and lived vicariously through it.


When Rasheal looked out the window, she'd

close her bright eyes and allow her imagination

to take over. The place flowing with green hills

and flooded with smells of lavender and berries.


She allowed her mind to take her to her favorite

place....


the world out of reach.




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