Red Sky At Morning (Short Story)

Red Sky At Morning

I'm laying on my side, reading short story after short story, and adding them to a reading list only recently created. I've had Wattpad for over a year, maybe more, but within the past month or so, I've been absent from the scene, but have since returned back to my online Barnes & Noble. The couch underneath me is old and flat, as I slept on it rather than my bed for the entirety of sixth grade. The pillows I used are on a matching chair less than two yards away, but my brightly colored, jaguar print blanket is too soft and warm to get out of, so I pull my favorite hoodie down from the back of the couch and use the extent of its neck support.

"These birds are so annoying," I think to myself. "How can they be so loud? All the windows are closed."

Wait a minute. Birds? It can't possibly be morning yet. I press the home button on my incredibly outdated iPad to confirm my concerns. Sure enough, right at the very top my home screen reads "5:28 AM" and I'm honestly shocked that I really stayed up that late.

I push my covers away to the opposite end of the couch and pull my lanky legs out and stand up from my laying position. I walk over the window and pull back the brown curtains, to reveal the early morning sky staring me down, challenging me to join it. I accept the Sun's invitation, and pick up my hoodie, pulling over my Panic! At The Disco t-shirt. Then I walk to couch, and pick up a pair of bright blue sweatpants, and pull those over my camo-printed jean shorts, slip on my black flap-flips, and carefully turn the handle on my front door.

It is old, and does not open without its fair share of creaks and whines. I wince, hoping it didn't disturb any other people in the house. I open the glass door next, and step outside, my cat trails behind, but I don't let him walk outside. This doesn't stop him from peaking over the white painted metal framing of the glass door and watching me sit down on the concrete steps.

At this time, all the birds are quarreling over the silliest things, and it is imperative that they do so as loud as avianly possible. I sigh and greet the birds audibly nonetheless. My house faces Southeast, so I can see through the leaves of a small patch of trees across the street, that the sky is a bright shade of red.

"I sure hope no one up by the lake decides to go fishing today," I say to the Sun, starting up a conversation. I mumble the old rhyme back to the both of us, shivering. A minute passes as I listen to the early workers down at the landfill not half a mile away. The loud trucks backing up, dumping nasty cargo. I decide to go for a walk, but I haven't eaten anything, so I stand up and walk back inside.

My groggy mother walks to my end of the house-she doesn't even have her glasses on. I meet her in the kitchen. The cat sits down under the island table.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice not even present. She sways and stands hunched lazily. She squints tightly.

"Watching the sunrise," I say truthfully. "I couldn't sleep," I add, not quite as truthful, as I could've gone to bed whenever I wished.

"Ok. . . Did you feed the cat?" We both look down to Genji, who is licking his paw. He looks up, curious, then away at the old gallon ice cream container where his food and 1/3 cup scoop await.

"No, I'll do that now," I say and scoop out just enough kibble to cover the bottom of the scoop. I drop the luxury into Genji's food bowl as he purrs at me. I'm his favorite. I stand upright and watch mom retreat into her bedroom, where she presumably falls back asleep, as it is way too early for her.

Making sure I don't make a sound, I grab a pack of six lemon wafer cookies, stuff them in my hoodie pocket, and head outside. I walk down the short, ugly path connecting the boring, concrete porch, with the boring, concrete driveway. I walk along the right side of the driveway, and along the right side of the road.

I look back to my left behind me, as the trees move out of the way to reveal the Sun's unexplained anger. I don't take in its beauty fully, until I'm standing in front of the second house I pass.

I turn around again, and my eyes marvel at the wondrous spectacle before me. The thick red stripe that rests against the ground far away, bleeds upward into a sky built of mandarin oranges. If I cared to, I could reach out and pluck one off the tree sprouting from the Sun. As the tree's limbs ended, there were fewer oranges, and the sky became yellow for a second, then pink, and I followed the sky to the Southwest, where it became lavender, and eventually a gray violet. The neighbors across the street better know how lucky they are to own a pond, as on mornings like this, the Sun's light bounces off the still water, and onto the pine trees that separate it from the road. The nearby pile of firewood nestled against a brick house, along a stone fire pit and another, smaller line of trees on the opposite side of the pond, really made a picturesque scene for my eyes to gaze upon.

I continue walking, as my journey must ultimately continue. There is no stopping on this round trip that I shall keep to myself, forever.