For Prompt #112: An unknown friend. + the keywords utter, white, hole, daydream.
Like a hole in the center of a waving, golden-green sea, the grass is parted in one little corner of the convent garden, and filled up with a girl.
She is young and awkward, more like a fledgling bird than a human child, too long for her black dress, and too thin for her length. (But she's hiding in a hole in the grass, so what do things like that matter to her now?)
She's daydreaming, utterly lost to the world, to the convent, and to its stark, black and white realities. In her mind, she isn't alone - there is a lady, all in white, who sings her songs that sound like the wind whistling around and above her, and strokes her hair with hands that feel like the long blades of grass that hide her from the world. It doesn't matter to the girl that she doesn't know the lady's name; like the hole in the center of the golden-green sea, she's had a hole in her heart, and (fair and smiling, more like a beautiful swan than a human woman, with a white gown that fits her like perfect feathers) the lady fills it.