Influenced

Sunday Morning

The last thing they remember, together, is the feeling of that breeze. The breeze that smelled of hot mid august. The clouds hugged the sun in front of a screen of purple, pink, and soft orange. The blanket had never felt softer, despite the busted up pavement in their complex. Heathers, playing rather loudly on Sunny's computer, seemed to whisper so they could take in the feeling of that breeze. That perfect summer breeze.
Sunday awoke to the alarm on her phone screaming at her. It was still dark out. 5:30 AM to be exact. She groggily rolled over and let her warm feet touch the dead cold floor. She stood up and yawned, comforted by the darkness and quiet of early morning. As Sunday began her morning routine, lighting incense, taking her medicine, and morning yoga, she heard a soft tap on her door. She stood up from where she was getting ready to bridge, and walked over to retrieve her breakfast from her assistant. She placed the dairy free spinach and tomato egg white omelette on her desk. It looked perfect on the cherry wood right under the small circle window, decorated with hanging plants. She continued her stretch and breathed in the scent of fresh food and incense smoke. Her eyes gently closed as she slid into a split, allowing her muscles to completely relax while not having to blow out the comforting scent. When she was done, the yoga mat was rolled up neatly, and placed in a bin with the rest of her workout supplies. This bin was then placed outside her door for her assistant to take into the at-home gym, while Sunday took a cold shower. Sunday then put on a face mask and a matching grey athleisure set. She sat down at her desk and journaled while she ate the omelette her assistant had prepared 30 minutes earlier.

Sunday walked briskly down the stairs phone and car keys in hand. Her hair was in a low ponytail pinned back with custom 'AlwaysSunday' hair pins. Her shoes were the safe choice of her outfit, airforces. They were white to match the hairpins in Sunday's straight, elbow length, black hair. She traded her grey set for a black bodysuit, and black and white, cow print pants. As she reached the last step, her assistant handed her a bottle of water, infused with cinnamon and lemon. Sunday ran out the door thanking herself for packing her clothes the night before. She opened the door of her black beetle, climbing into the faux leather seat. Inserting, turning, and shifting the gear, Sunday jolts as the car jumps to life in response to her actions. She pulls out of the driveway and let's the top down. She had a 45 minute drive ahead of her, and she still has to pick up 3 other people on the way.

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