Trees of Oak

Carlotta was back late. She always was. Praying matron was occupied with some small crisis or another, she closed the door, crept down the hallway and tip-toed up the stairs. That was the easy part. Now she would have to sneak through corridor to her room. Snores could be heard from the beds of the other children, which she hoped would drown the creaks and squeaks as the made her way across the carpet. Relief surged over her as she tentatively clutched her brass door handle, turned it and silently watch as it opened.




Due to the lack of light, she practically stumbled through the doorway, closing the door behind her. She sighed. Crossing the room to close the dusty white curtains, she reflected on the evenings events. The garden had been more beautiful than ever. Just feeling its serene sense of safety was enough to soothe her. As she changed into her night-ware, Carlotta began to realise just how risky it was to return to her faviroute place, but she also realised that she couldn't resist its sense of tranquility. After turning the light out, she lay in her bed and listened to an owl as it hooted its message outside her window. For a moment, Carlotta envied its freedom. But this was overcome by fatigue. With images of the garden playing like an old movie in her head, Carlotta slipped into a deep and gentle sleep...

The End

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