Reconciling.
The apartment was dimly lit by the sunlight creeping through the slightly drawn shade in the window. Not a tiny spec of dust drifted through the rays of light that fell over the prinstine white sheets. The soft white glow of the bedside clock announced that the time was 6:29am.
Tom laid on his back, arms crossed over his chest, head cocked sideways and eyes wide taking in the clock time. Staring.
A soft hum of the fan blades above his bed made a subtle and rhythmic beating in the air. Outside, the faint sound of traffic and chirping birds were muffled, but loud enough to know you were in a cheap apartment complex.
A few apartments over, someone turned on their sink.
The clock turned to 6:30, and the soft sound of music wafted through the air. Tom turned his head and looked up at the ceiling.
He through the thick comforter off of his legs and rolled out of bed energetically. The room was clean and orderly, furnished with a simple, nondescript dresser and desk. His laptop was open, and a screen saver drifted with lines in an hypnotic code. Otherwise, the desk was clean and organized.
Tom grabbed his phone from the bedside nightstand. He scrolled through his notifications to check if he had missed anything important during his short night of sleep. He scratched is thick hair and yawned deep, squinting as he reviewed his messages.
A few updates from CNN, the weather for the day, the S&P closing and the Dodgers sports score.
And a message from Kathy, though it was not marked with a "911", which meant urgent.
It could wait.
He put the phone down on the table with a thud and walked gingerly to the living room.
Today was the start of a long day, and he wanted to get it started the right way.
The apartment was dimly lit by the sunlight creeping through the slightly drawn shade in the window. Not a tiny spec of dust drifted through the rays of light that fell over the prinstine white sheets. The soft white glow of the bedside clock announced that the time was 6:29am.
Tom laid on his back, arms crossed over his chest, head cocked sideways and eyes wide taking in the clock time. Staring.
A soft hum of the fan blades above his bed made a subtle and rhythmic beating in the air. Outside, the faint sound of traffic and chirping birds were muffled, but loud enough to know you were in a cheap apartment complex.
A few apartments over, someone turned on their sink.
The clock turned to 6:30, and the soft sound of music wafted through the air. Tom turned his head and looked up at the ceiling.
He through the thick comforter off of his legs and rolled out of bed energetically. The room was clean and orderly, furnished with a simple, nondescript dresser and desk. His laptop was open, and a screen saver drifted with lines in an hypnotic code. Otherwise, the desk was clean and organized.
Tom grabbed his phone from the bedside nightstand. He scrolled through his notifications to check if he had missed anything important during his short night of sleep. He scratched is thick hair and yawned deep, squinting as he reviewed his messages.
A few updates from CNN, the weather for the day, the S&P closing and the Dodgers sports score.
And a message from Kathy, though it was not marked with a "911", which meant urgent.
It could wait.
He put the phone down on the table with a thud and walked gingerly to the living room.
Today was the start of a long day, and he wanted to get it started the right way.
0 comments:
Post a Comment