A Little Fox

Leaving the rain-soaked night behind, we left the village early in the morning.

The hesitant sunlight brushed the rooftops, and the village shrouded in mist quietly receded before we knew it.

The damp air still carried the lingering breath of the rain.

Droplets clinging to every blade of grass trembled like glass,

and the soggy earth still breathed softly, holding on to yesterday’s memories.

The horse moved its hooves quietly,

and the carriage rolled cautiously over the damp ground.

Inside the carriage, I rested a blanket over my knees and quietly caught my breath.

The breeze slipping through a gap in the canopy brushed my damp hair,

and the hazy scenery drifted past like a dream...