The fabric of the towel tickles my skin as I lay and daydream.
A small shiver sneaks its way up my spine, and I sigh.
The grass around me is a bright green, the willow shading me from the heat of the sun.
Clouds go by; they look like fish swimming in the deep blue. I spot one that looks like a hand reaching out towards me.
As I lay there, staring at that one cloud, I imagine the hand coming down out of the sky and brushing across my skin.
I can almost feel the softness of it on my skin. Like a bug crawling on your arm, tickling you the tiniest bit.
The sun is higher in the sky now, the willow no longer shading me from its glare. It sparkles of my charm bracelet, casting tiny shadows onto the trunk of the willow.
The hand goes back to its home in the clouds, swimming away with all the other fish.