morning hours

She laid there as the stillness begot the multitude surroundings all that was in it. The morning hours crept silently as the beginnings shouted starting the day. She laid there alone not able to face the day or the events that were in it. Lifting her head allowing the sun rays peering through the square panes of glass reach her knowing the hours that were to follow were not of joy and encumbrance. Her body felt heavy as she raised from the thick soft padded mattress and gazed the room with a clouded mind searching for some meaning that could give her ambition to the nothingness that gazed back at her. Bleak was the minutes carrying the day onward. No one there, no one to challenge the nothing the dew had brought, all she had was a list of things to do and in those things the nothing grew.

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