One has the Key

Overworking Fox

The Afton Residence

Breezing Brooke Street

6:58 AM

Waking time: none

Date: April 7

A bird's song rang through the morning's glades of sunshine now peeping from the high mountains of the coast. The property's line was overlooked by the golden light of rising and the orange tints of the sky married a bright yellow light before red could be born by the center. A brisk wind blew through the area and the atmosphere was almost warm to its max for a morning bringing. Songs of birds being sung and the crickets fading back to their special dark places. They dominate their time and the birds dominate theirs besides them. Times were changed by the last month and now on the brighter outlook among the waking humans for a proper work day till at least three in the afternoon, full time. The nightmares wouldn't be up at this time, yet, they're out by out of when the eight strikes it period on the clocks after seven gives away. It's what they do. For how much they afforded the entire place by just a couple billions in their pockets each, chopping it like the vegetable they are last night to the toys and Foxy, they still work for the extra cash in case of corruption sweeping them away like the dust brushed off the old picture frames that stood on the mantle. Less than what is expected from how much Foxy has been away from his folks, it's for the better or worse before the originals could even have eternal heartbreak to see what they've made of themselves towards a pure soul. The open windows almost had tiny leaks of orange amber, bright sunlight from the horizon, inviting itself into the darkened living room and diner table. Locked windows and still furniture watched the light try to leak like water, so still and quiet on the side. A special thing to wake up to when living on the sides of a lake and campus long driveway, owning a bunch of land to take advantage of instead of buying. Half ways of raising couldn't change how beautiful the early dawn arose to the people living on Breezing Brooke Street, a couple miles off a down pavement road to the next city down. The city would have an alarm so bitter and loud to spark itself awake, the wilderness of sun rising around the quiet areas made it extra hard to wake and experience, unless you're the person to wake when the sun does too. The mists of purple fade towards the bluer sides before the clouds of the dusk breaking wind could take over beyond the sun's reach. The clouds looked like the mist in the skies of Alaska, but the winds almost took them out just by a blow here and there. Camping would almost be the option term of those from the city coming to the street of open space, but that was okay. It's what satisfied everyone living, including the nightmares and their whole mixed family of true souls of the moon's blessings.