A Sunday Morning
A deep, all-consuming abyss of nothingness. And then, light. I slowly blinked my eyes open, gauging the familiar surroundings of my room, my blanket halfheartedly draped over my legs. The dull hum of the air conditioner hung in the background, with rusty grunts in irregular intervals breaking the monotony. My consciousness dawns and begins to settle in, gently spreading out like ripples on the surface of a crystal-clear pond. I stretched as I reached into the 3-inch gap between my pillow and the edge of the mattress, the perfect stowaway for my phone every night, and tugged at the charging cord lazily. I stared at the screen in a dreary daze. I rubbed the corners of my eyes, dusting away the crusty goop that had collected in my eyelids over the course of the night. The particles dropped off of the edge of my half-stretched, long lashes as I blinked and blinked again. I was pleasantly surprised to note that it wasn't as late as I would've imagined myself waking up on a Sunday...