When Angels Dream

Ever so softly, an angel tapped on Sandra’s sleeping, dreaming, peaceful soul. Wearing days gave-way to tranquil nights. Sandra lived a dual life. By day she was a bondwoman living in servitude to a well-heeled and terribly affluent family. The matriarch who was publicly known as Dame Judith, although highly respected in the community, was a wretched woman to be conversed with. Demeaning Sandra minute by minute, and hour by hour, appeared to be Dame Judith’s reason for waking up every morning.

In a grand masonry mansion-like structure which held the lead position of the old town square was a mystical place known as The Dankworth Mansion. The home of selfish and disagreeable people. At least that’s what most of the town residents thought about the place. This is where Sandra spent her days and nights.

No one could determine who exactly Sandra was. She had no last name that she shared with anyone. In fact, it was difficult to determine her actual age. Sometimes she looked and acted very mature, other times she displayed all the traits of a very immature young girl. It seemed like she was destined to end up in The Dankworth Mansion.

On a bitterly cold stormy night, Dame Judith’s servants heard a banging on the door of the main entrance. Standing outside was Sandra. She was soaking wet from head to toe. And certainly not wearing the kind of garments one would need…