The Night Owl

She was indecisively switching from standing up and curling back up into a ball under the covers for two to three times before she decided she was awake.

Dragging her feet to the bathroom, she ran through same routine of deciding whether or not this is the morning she was going to workout before breakfast. She decided to just brush her teeth first, ending the thought.

With her shoulders sagging to the floor and her chin to her chest, she splashed her face with cold water to jolt herself out of her sleepy state.

She looked up to the mirror and stared the reflection. The black roots of her hair were already starting to show. I should make an appointment soon. Leftover black eyeliner from when she was cleaning her face the night before was starting to fade. Her dark brown eyes barely seen as she was almost squinting, still feeling groggy from who knows what.

There was something odd about that day. Something that made this morning a little more sluggish than the norm.

What was it she was missing?

What was it she wasn’t remembering?

She closed her eyes for a minute and tried to remember what was it that was bothering her. She wasn’t hungover. She didn’t lack any sleep. She tried recalling if it was something she forgot she dreamt about.

“Someday I’m going to dread waking up early a little less because I’ll be waking up right next to you.”.

 Then she remembered.


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