She woke up late that morning as the sun was beaming through cracks in her curtains. A gentle cold breeze was blowing in the smell of freshly cut grass. One of her demoiselles must have left the window open. She wrapped herself in a crisp bedsheet and got up to peek over her jardin in full bloom. She had no will for yet another game of cards nor the latest gossip over tea and biscuits.
Someone was coming! She ran down to the garden through her secret backdoor and as she made it outside, she felt the cold pavement kissing her bare feet... She was alive. The sun caressed her cheeks and soft gusts of wind pleated the sheet close to her body.