Before The Morning Song Novels & Stories

“I gazed out at the bright, vibrant scene beyond the window and could not help softly humming the lullaby my mother used to sing to me. “I hope you are always loved, I hope joy will fill your days, and may my hands shield you from the wind’s cold ways.” My voice was weak and fractured, yet my heart felt full of warmth. At the end of my life, my memories were not filled with arguments, nor with love, hate, or resentment. They were filled with my mother. She taught me how to sing. She taught me how to learn. She told me to love myself. She used to say that she did not mind suffering a little. She would be happy as long as I could live well.

That drink is too strong for you. "Malcolm, why are you just standing there like a statue? "Apologize now! Do you want to hurt him?" I stood by, watching the commotion unfold. The room was buzzing with people when Adrian hurried over to clear things up: "Everyone's got it wrong. Malcolm's here for his new job celebration." Rosie paused, her anger melting away, and she turned to me with curiosity. "They're throwing a party for your new job? "Why didn't you talk to me before job hunting? If you're not home, who's going to look after my mom?"

No, I was imagining it. Paranoia from the stress of the day. Yet the seed planted, I spent the whole night wondering, staring at the ceiling until dawn crept through the curtains. Morning light filtered in softly, the estate stirring to life below. It was my first morning as Mrs. Victor Langford—mistress of this sprawling mansion with its marble halls, staff quarters, and views of the harbor. I couldn't lounge in bed, brooding. No, I'd prove I belonged here. Rising early, I showered and dressed in a simple yet elegant oversized shirt with my hair pinned up casually.

Bonnie I couldn't miss my early morning jogging, the pavement was wet beneath my sneakers as I moved. It was five forty-five in the morning and the entire world was still gray and sleepy. My earbuds were in. 'I'm slamming the door and I'm killing the lights cos I hate that I miss you tonight' Johnny Hyunh's voice wrapped around me like smoke. Smooth and hauntingly beautiful. The kind of song that made you feel lonely even when you weren't alone.

The night before our big offline meetup, my roommate took one look at my internet boyfriend's photo and declared it was a fake. "Using a stolen photo for an online romance? He's definitely insecure and too ugly to show his real face!" The next day, my boyfriend texted: [Sorry, something came up at the last minute. Can you wait half an hour?] I breathed a sigh of relief because I had just been notified about an exclusive expert lecture on campus. Word was, the speaker was an academic powerhouse, and the university had paid a fortune to secure him. I snagged a seat in the front row. But the moment I looked up at the podium, my stomach dropped. Why did this famous scholar look so much like

An inspiring song. I then imagined Adam Levine surrounded by Aisyah, Kirana, and Julia. Then for some reason, Amelia appeared along with it. I started humming, “Spent twenty-four hours, I need more hours with you…” Suddenly, “Un(o), dos, un(o), dos, tres, cuat(tro)!” Big K counted and then the thump and distortion followed. An intro song titled Anticop Fuck The Police then interrupted my singing. But, my energy immediately swelled up like a blood-curdling. That's how we started training that afternoon. Followed in a row, Orgasmatron, Dead Embryonic Cells, Territory, and other prestissimo tempo countrymen. And of course, our own works.

A cool wind rushed in through the open window, its impetuous gusts either moving away or making the sounds closer, making the lullaby sound with renewed vigor. In the morning the dew will fall again on the meadow, Sleep - fall asleep, you are my fidget, In the song of the night the sun will become the moon, And will call for a long journey behind him .... It has only been one day since he returned home. A very long day.

The Following Morning --- The morning found me before my alarm did. Light pressed against my eyelids, warm and insistent, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I had truly left the dream at all. My body felt heavy in the sheets, but my mind… my mind was still trailing.

𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝘅, 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴. “𝗛𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼, 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗕𝗵𝗲𝗺𝘇𝗹𝘆, 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝗲�

The following day. The morning air exuded brightness, as numerous pairs of small birds alighted on a tree branch before the apartment building, engaged in amorous exchanges. The symphony of their chirps imbued the morning ambiance with a revitalizing quality. Vers continued to slumber serenely in his bed, despite the advancing hours nearing noon. With the day's program scheduled for the afternoon, he was afforded the luxury of resting undisturbed. Nonetheless, a faintly clamorous noise jolted him awake, prompting a swift return to consciousness.