Is it time? Do I have to go?
Soft light filters into the room.
It must be morning.
My eyes swing to the window and find rivers of water
running down the glass pane, promising wet and cold.
running down the glass pane, promising wet and cold.
I shiver like I'm already in it and pull the blankets tighter around me.
I don't want to go out there. Not again. Not like this.
For a brief moment I wish someone could take my place.
Someone else would go out there in my stead.
Someone else would go out there in my stead.
The thought vanishes fast as it had come.
I can't do that. It is my place. My destiny.
I can't do that. It is my place. My destiny.
I must go out there. It would mean death otherwise.
Death for me, no. For the ones I love.
And if I caused their hurt I may as well be dead.
Death for me, no. For the ones I love.
And if I caused their hurt I may as well be dead.
Who would care for the little orphan Tobias if I didn't go?
Who would see to the mothers with new babies at their side?
Food and water must be gotten to the ones who are locked in,
unable to venture out for themselves.
unable to venture out for themselves.
I ponder these things, staring out the crying window until the call comes.
"Rise and shine girls. It's time to do chores."
With a sigh I sit up slowly.
One thought races across my mind.
I have nothing to write about today. I'm putting this on the blog.
Ha ha, it seems I'm not the only one who's dramatic about mornings.
ReplyDeleteOh no. I'm dramatic about mornings. The morning is evil -_-
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