That Feeling

The feeling that envelopes her like a cloud is too much to convey to the world; it would overwhelm the senses, and in fact overwhelms her already. She is practically immersed in rays of inner sunshine, consumed by this euphoria bubbling up inside her. It is magical. A small giggle escapes, and she quickly must restrain the rest inside. Her toes curl as she concentrates on focusing this wild, gleeful energy into a small sphere of imaginary light. She tucks it into an invisible pocket somewhere, where it glows, and she can pull it out again later and bask in it. 


It will last for as long as she keeps it alive. 


Over and over again in her mind she replays the magical feeling. A sly smile. A hand across her shoulders. The small ache in her temple. The sweat on her brow. Everything. But especially the smile. That she cannot lose. As long as she runs through it in her mind, over and over again until it wears a path, it stays, and consumes every fiber of her being. This glorious cycle will continue until, little by little, it starts to fade. The path in her mind will be worn through and eventually, only the memory of that happiness will remain. And then there is only to wait. 


That is, until the next magic moment comes. And it always does.