Before The Morning Song Novels & Stories

____ NEXT MORNING The soft rays of the morning sun gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room. Delilah stirred, rubbing her eyes as she registered it was the weekend—a precious day off from the routine rush. She instinctively reached out to hug her son, only to be met with resistance. Nathan, already awake and slightly grumpy, greeted, "Good morning, papa," pulling Stephen in for a cheek-kiss. Delilah chuckled, teasingly, "Nathan, is this how I always find you sleeping next to Papa in the morning?"

Morning follows night is a sure phrase.So it went with Enkanasa village,on a soft June day,and drought could be smelt in the air.July cold would be coming in soon to envelop the face of the earth.Cows would smell rain from far,and lift their noses in anticipation.The air was filled with anxiety and the village got up to an amazing new chant that rendered the air,women clinging to top notch voices,singing a song of birth.Small children would be given sugar to lick and small sips of milk as an approval of the new birth.It was a big surprise to the villagers,as they moved out to see who the new guest was.

Saturday Morning The first light of dawn crept through the flimsy curtains of Kayla’s small dorm room, painting the walls with a soft, ethereal glow. The familiar symphony of birdsong outside, a chorus of chirps and trills, mingled with the distant, muffled hum of the awakening city, a low thrumming that vibrated through the floor and into the very bones of the building. Even without the jarring intrusion of an alarm clock, Kayla’s body, attuned to the rhythms of habit and routine, stirred from its slumber. Years of ingrained discipline had etched this internal clock into her very being, a reliable mechanism that roused her even when her mind craved the solace of sleep.

She says. I laughs and give her a quick kiss. "It will be if you're punctual. I forgot to greet my beautiful woman. Good morning babe." She smiles. "Good morning." She kisses me back really quick. I stand up and pat the mattress several times with the palms of my hands. "So get out, get out, get out of our bed." I began to sing this One Direction song that Lissa had been listening to every single day that has gotten into me but I slightly changed the lyrics.

Like every other morning, Sable would sing 'Shooting Star' to start my day. Glancing at the red digits flashing, I smiled. "Good morning Sable…" I croaked before promptly falling back to bed. As much as I love to hear my beloved pop idol sing, not even she could get me out of bed after an especially long night. With a half-hearted grunt, I hit the snooze sensor. Ten minutes later, the song went off again. Unable to find a comfortable position to fall back to sleep, I gave up. That's it. I needed a shower.

I just grunted, not bothering with words. I hung up and sprawled out on my bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Maybe my mom had a point. I would give it a few days, and things would look up. A month went by. I clocked out early that day, and I got home by 5:30 p.m. Stepping out of the elevator, I was greeted by three men at my door. Dressed in black jackets, they were in a heated discussion with the building's management. "If she's not home, she's not home. We'll wait," they said.

Exactly the way it was in the mornings in the compound, before everything. I hold my daughter and my mother's song is in the room. Both of them, together, held.

I stirred slightly to the ray of light peeking through my brown curtain and groaned. I turned my body till I was resting on my left side and covered my face with a pillow to stop the sunlight from waking me up. Before I could go any deeper into the second round of sleep, my alarm blared. The song "Rewrite the stars" by Anne-Marrie and James Author played loudly causing me to snap the sleep off my face and stand up. I turned off the alarm and did my morning prayers. Once I was done, I replayed the alarm song and sang along as I arranged my bed and picked out my clothes for the day.

The Next Morning Arianna woke up bright and early, just before the birds began chirping outside the house. Soft morning light filtered through the curtains, brushing her face as she sat up in bed. A quiet hum escaped her lips—her favorite tune—one she hadn’t sung freely in a very long time. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and moved to the rhythm, almost dancing as she crossed the room, her steps light and unburdened.

I know he felt bad for me and he's probably worried. Today, we were awoken by the sound track of Maze Runner and I did everything to stay awake and drank coffee. That music must have been a clue that we'll play something intense. "Good morning, ex-couples." The game master greeted us early this morning. "Good morning, Master." We greeted him back in unison. "Did you recognize the song this morning? If you are familiar with it, it is related to today's game. Today's game is called 'Meet Me at the Finish Line, Ex.'"