The Waking Hour

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        I woke up early in the morning to see the sunlight streaming in through the window. The dust in the air danced wistfully down to the dark hardwood floor, and I felt like I was floating under the down covers of my large bed, with the warmth of my fiance against my back. The comfortable pressure of her kept me in bed for a good ten minutes after I first opened my eyes, but I soon became restless. I slipped out of the bed quietly, trying not to wake her up, and padded out of our room into the hall, with our saint bernard, Georgie, falling in step behind me. The faint sound of Seattle traffic outside combined with the pitter patter of the dog's paws made me smile to myself. Finally, my dream is reality.

        I started a pot of coffee brewing and inhaled the thick, deep scent as I sat down with my book at the cafe table that served as a dining room. Opening the pages to where I last left off, I admired the rays of sunlight hitting the pages of my book, illuminating the words and making the experience just a little bit better.

¤I am filled with love.¤


(A/N): I know, short chapter. I can never do long ones, so why not just do these tiny ones for now? No commitment. Perfect. Anyways, these are gonna be my fantasies put into words.
-Re

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