She lay there, among a cascade of sheets, hands behind her head and ankle carelessly crossed; Days old red nail-polish chipping off. The fan whirs above too loud for the quiet that surrounds her, the lights too harsh for her seemingly serene moments, the atmosphere to formal for her casual posture. She sits in a place too unlike herself… too formal. Her mind is another place to be, nothing like her posture or the décor around; it’s mayhem of thoughts, a turmoil of ideas replaced every moment, flipping out of grasp, exploding volcanoes of colors, rainbows of events, chaos of recollection. Such serene moments.
picture source : http://www.facebook.com/Urbah.V.Photography?fref=ts