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Weekly Contest #317
I hear a huge yawn, then a cry in my ear: it is time for me to get up. Her whining grows louder the moment my eyelids open. She stamps her feet, and I bend down to get her into bed. My gaze stops on the hands of the alarm clock: almost eight a.m., I still have time. As she has done every morning for the past five years, she rolls around in the blankets around me, searching for my hand. Happy simply to exist. Happy to finally have my affection. Lying down, she fixes her big, tired eyes on my dark-circled, worn down face, which I interpret as ...
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