My favorite place

It is early morning the sun is just peaking through the trees. I blearily glance out at the view of the mountains hiding behind the tops of the trees. The sun shining on tender fragile green leaves, the sky a brilliant blue, a few soft puffy clouds floating past. The whisper of a breeze, gliding over branches that reach for the heavens, slips in to the house. The fresh clean smell of spring is in the air. I see none of it as I walk quietly through the kitchen, tiptoeing carefully around the boards that moan from age. Down the hallway, my feet feeling the soft carpet, toes wiggling in to feel the warmth after the coldness of the floor.

It is quiet, so very quiet as I walk into my room, my favorite place. My eyes brighten as I feel the calm emanating from the soft peach walls. The sunlight just slipping in this room at the back of the house. My heart begins to race... There it is, sitting in regal black splendor, quiet now, dead to the world and to me. I reach out tentatively, my pulse quickens, I feel fear, great feat and anticipation. I say a tiny prayer to the god, goddesses, anyone that may grant my plea. Please, please, I will be good forever if you just do this one thing for me. My hand moves closer, fingers trembling. I touch that one special place that has the ability to bring joy into my life. I push quickly, gently and listen. I hear the wonder of a soft purr as it comes slowly to life. I turn on the lights so I may see this amazing event that happens every morning just for me. My computer has come to life once more!