There is light everywhere. Bright, warm, piercing light, and I endeavor to keep it at bay for a few more precious minutes. I want to hide, just a few more minutes. But the glare is too strong, and I finally succumb to wakefulness. A glorious Seattle morning greets me – sunshine pouring through the full-height windows and flooding the room with too-bright light. Why didn’t we close the blinds last night?
Fifty Shades of Grey, p. 269.
wait, so i’m confused- is it bright in the room? i think a few more wordy sentences about how much light there is would help clarify because i’m confused.
politics-and-prose reblogged this from 50shadesofsuck
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