Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
Elle stirred in her sleep as the warm rays of sunlight streamed through the window and onto her face.
William Blake
She tried using her hand to block the light but it didn't work. She blinked her eyes open and yawned, stretching her arms out wide lazily. As she sat up in bed, she looked around the unfamiliar room.
'How did I get here?' She thought as she stretched again and tried to remember how she got there.