Standing next to the bed, we stare at their sleeping forms in front of us. Amongst the rising of their chests, my mother's softened snores are countered by my father's thundering cacophony. Their slumbering symphany, a curiosity to me and my sisters. Nudging and glancing at one another, our silent prodding finally convinces me to climb the mount. As my knobbly knees and tiny hands clamor onto the mattress, my sisters huddle closer to the bed to watch my antics. My father's deep sleep is undisturbed as my small form straddles his chest and I stare down at his nostrils flaring and shrinking. My sisters take the initiative to start their ascent up the bed frame to awaken my mother. Looking down at my dad, I suddenly wonder what is going on inside his mind as he sleeps. With tentative fingers, I slowly reach towards his face and push his eyelids open. For a flash of a moment, I am staring at his eyes and the pink underskin of his lids. The startling image of this wide-eyed stare is quickly disturbed as my father startles awake. He is quick to pry my little hands from his face as he shakes his head to figure out what is going on. He looks to me and then my sisters who have begun to prod my mother awake. Taking a second to register the early morning rays peaking through the blinds, he smiles and rolls us into a bear hug with the others and bellows "Merry Christmas".
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PROMPT: What was your first memory (or one of your first)? (Prompt was pulled from a club forum on www.hexrpg.com )
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Inspired Inklings
RandomA collection of writings for different prompts I've written over the years!
