Everything was gentle – the sun on her face, the breeze through the trees, the bounce of the trampoline where she lay, even the small plane passing high above. She pushed aside Trixie Belden – she didn’t need to keep reading, especially because she’d read it at least four times since getting it for her birthday less than a month ago.
Breathing slowly and quietly, she tried to hear as far as she could. There was cricket with the casual clapping after the crack of the ball on bat. Further away, she could hear the sounds of children screaming and playing at the beach. Still further, a train and the level crossing bells. She tried to strain her hearing without losing the sense of peace she felt.
The back door slammed. The gentle was over.