Saturday.
She woke up earlier than usual. She was trembling, breathing heavily, palms clammy and forehead gleaming with beads of sweat.
Strangest of all, she didn't remember why. She couldn't remember what had scared her, what nightmare had put her in such a state of panic.
She drank a warm glass of milk to calm her rattled nerves, and sat alone in her kitchen. She hadn't turned a single light on, the dark was calming. Her phone read 3:21am, Saturday.
She clamped some headphones over her ears, and put on a song.
At first she sat, with her chin held in her palms, listening. She soon began to nod, tilting her head this way and that. Sooner still, she was mouthing the words and shrugging to the beat.
And up she stood, nearly knocking her chair to the ground, not that she could hear it. She was lost, oh how lost she was, within the song.
Her encounter with the forgotten nightmare soon was the farthest from her mind, and all that remained was her, her music, and the quiet hour.
YOU ARE READING
Sip by Sip
Romance(Lowercase intended on cover) "The simple things in life are never meaningful, and the meaningful things in life are never simple. So maybe I don't want meaningful. Maybe I just want someone who cares enough to listen." Gemma Summers and Noah Han...
