#20

he woke up a minute before the alarm. reaching over and shutting the alarm off, a smile spread across his lips, a comforting happiness that the screech of the clock wouldn't jolt him from a dreamlike state.
as his arm reached out, a cold draft grabbed him and slid down his arm under the covers. quickly, he pulled the blanket up under his chin. he was torn between the need to get up, to get ready, to go, and the ache to stay there, underneath the soft covers- warm and soft like a baby still in the womb, not ready to open his eyes to the harsh world.
eventually though, he rose, and went to the window. it was covered in mist and steam and he brought his fingertips up to the glass. they pressed lightly and released, and the condensation dripped as teardrops down, down, down.
this is the only chance i get to live this day, he thought. today he felt more dramatic, sadder maybe, but more honest, and emboldened, he felt suddenly youthful and he reveled in the thought, tumbled in it, and tasted it, as if today he had stumbled upon a second chance for all the years that had passed.