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Prose: Good Morning

Darius is a former high school literary and feature writer that loves reading books, listening to music, and watching movies.

Morning bed.

Morning bed.

Above the clouds covered in silk and cotton, a tiny, sluggish groan sang out of her vocal cords.

She opened her eyes gently, hesitant because the sunrays might make it squint like how her mouth shrunk when she tasted that oh too sour lemonade a day ago. Slowly, she opens her windows.

And like a camera that focuses on its subject, the view became sharper and sharper until she saw a figure of love staring right at her.

"Good morning."

The cold breeze followed his greeting. The words were honey from beehives, or cubes of sugars left out on small jars placed inside their cupboards.

"Good morning." She replied. Her words were roses without any single thorn. She looked at him like how she looks at beautiful landscapes. And he looked at her like she's a gift from the gods.

"Aren't you getting tired of staring at me every morning?"

She giggly asked. It was dumb but sweet. Of course, he'll still do it, even if it's still dusk or dawn.

"As long as you're beside me," his face got closer to hers and slowly landed a kiss on her forehead. He was seeing universes her eyes, galaxies, and stars in the ocean of darkness above the skies.

"I'll never get tired."

© 2019 Darius Razzle Paciente