Dip in My Daydream
by Victoria Blake I sat cross-legged in the grass, a freshly picked assortment of crisp white daisies nestled in my lap, slowly being threaded onto a flower chain I was patiently making. The summer sun was high above me, bathing us both in glorious warm rays and dousing our senses with pollen and that special heady smell of grass that only exists in the summer time. The lightest of breezes picked up a few loose tendrils of my waist length hair, making them caress my bare shoulders in a way I had always imagined a precious lover would do. -40-
My beloved house truck was to my back, two and a half stories of beautifully crafted wood, nestled atop a 1930’s bedford truck, stained glass windows casting a kaleidoscope of colours onto the ground all around, I felt as though I was sitting inside a rainbow. I held the now finished daisy chain in front of me and carefully placed it over my head – settling it around my forehead with a central trail dropping between my shoulder blades and down my back, it too moving with the blessed breeze.
