Nomad Writer

The dawn always came filled with memories. It would’ve been better if its bosom was only plump with new promises and a fresh expectancy, but the things that gave her bittersweet feelings always followed along. Like the pains she suffered from her pillows being soft in some places while poking her neck sore in others.

Her recollections often bruised over her skull and she could not escape those fleeting seconds that stretched beyond the drowsy timbre of her yawn. The memories could go on forever, tangling her mind in unbidden reels of her most mortifying moments, until the alarm clattered through her entrapment.

The jarring sound draped the front of her nightshirt and jerked her through her disorientation. But as uncomfortable as these moments were, between wakefulness and surly reluctance, she was reminded of the few things she was grateful for.

Her life wasn’t only riddled with regrets over the poor choices of her past, but there was some contentment interspersed throughout and that was more than enough. The only hard part now was rolling out of bed to get her day started for work.

But her body bowed in defiance to her alarm’s chastisement. She flopped back on the pillows and hit the snooze button.

“Just a few more minutes,” she mumbled to no-one as a forbearing breeze drifted through her white curtains.