Lumilya

Evelyn got up to the incessant chirping of her alarm. She rolled over in bed, moaning, and squeezed rest, trusting to induce some more hours of rest before she had to confront the day ahead. The morning was full of meetings and deadlines and stress. Evelyn couldn’t wait to climb out of bed and out into the fresh, cold, and chaotic world outside.

She pulled the covers over her head, attempting to piece out the commotion and the light. She wished she could remain in her cozy cocoon until the end of time, absent from the inconveniences and worries of life. She felt a throb of depression, wishing she had somebody to share her bed and her dreams with. She had been single for a while, and in spite of the fact that she delighted in her freedom, she now and then longed for a companion, a accomplice, a soulmate.

She murmured and opened her eyes, leaving herself to the inescapable. She had to urge up and get prepared for work. She had responsibilities, obligations, expectations. She couldn't manage to be late or slack off. She had worked hard to induce where she was, and she wasn't getting to let anything destroy her career or reputation.

She tossed off the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She rubbed her eyes and looked around her studio flat, which was little but flawless and clean. She had decorated it with her own style and taste, making it feel like home. She loved her apartment, even though it was expensive and cramped. It was her sanctuary, her refuge, her lumilya.

She strolled over to the window and drew back the shades, letting in a surge of natural light. The sun was sparkling brightly, casting a warm and inviting gleam over the city. She grinned, feeling a surge of vitality and positive thinking. She chosen to create the foremost of this day, to do something that would bring her bliss and fulfillment. She reached for her sketchbook, enthusiastic to draw a modern scene of her daydream world. She had been working on it for years, creating a rich and detailed universe that sparked her imagination. Drawing was her passion, her outlet, her escape.

She sketched away, letting the colors flow from her hand to the paper. The lumilya enhanced her creativity, inspiring her to craft vivid landscapes and creatures. She felt a association with her world, as in case it were real and holding up for her to investigate. She submerged herself within the drawing, losing track of time and space. She was in her element, in her zone, in her lumilya.

She looked at the clock and realized she had went through more than an hour on her outline. She gasped, feeling a wave of freeze and guilt. She had to get prepared for work, or she would be late. She had wasted valuable time on a pointless pastime, rather than centering on her needs. She cursed herself, feeling a surge of outrage and dissatisfaction. She tore the portray from the book and folded it into a ball, tossing it into the junk. She hated herself, for being so irresponsible and immature. She had destroyed her day, and conceivably her career.

She snatched her dress and ran to the washroom, trusting to rescue what was cleared out of her morning. She showered, dressed, and applied her cosmetics, attempting to see proficient and confident. She stuffed her sack and checked her phone, seeing a dozen messages and emails from her boss and colleagues. She felt a hitch in her stomach, knowing she had a part of work to catch up on. She had to rush, or she would miss her transport.

She hurried out of the door, locking it behind her. She ran down the stairs and out of the building, into the active and noisy road. She looked up at the sky, which was presently cloudy and gray. She felt a chill within the air, and a drop of rain on her cheek. She shivered, feeling a sense of fear and despair. She had left her lumilya, and entered a world of darkness and cold.