3 A.M

3 A.M, she wakes from her sleep. Restless! She stares up at the ceiling. Numb. The silk sheets caressing her remain as still as her body. Pushing them aside, she creeps downstairs. Gracefully feeling her way around the night, she tiptoes down the polished wooden staircase. Silent. But a slight desire in the pit of her belly! Not passion, but mere hunger. She eagerly opens the door to the box. Chilled. Her slender fingers reach in to pick a green grape from the bunch. She closes her eyes and places it in her mouth. Sweet. With hope that the others might deliver the same delightful taste, she picks up the rest of the bunch. She continues back upstairs, embracing the emerald grapes as to not let a single one fall. Careful. She enters her room, softly shuts her door, and places herself atop her gray satin sheets. She devours another green orb. Sour. She winces but persists in eating the fruit, chewing delicately. Satiated. Finally beginning to feel faint, she lays back and rests her head on her velvet-red pillow. Content.