Miss All Sunday Mga Nobela at Kwento

~~~ Cyrus's Point of View ~~~ It's Sunday. Meaning, laying in bed all day, eating, and watching Netflix. I push the sheets down and get out of bed to go to the washroom. I get out a couple of minutes later to find the annoying jerks on my bed. "No guys, I don't want to deal with you today. Today is Sunday. Meaning all day, alone, in bed," I say pushing them off my bed getting ready to get back in bed,

LACY I woke up bright and early this morning while everyone else decided it would be an excellent idea to sleep in. With everything that happened this past week, I couldn't blame them. I felt that I lived a lifetime's worth of drama within a time frame of just seven days. I didn't mind that the Smith family decided to sleep in. Being Sunday, it meant that we would all flock to Sunday mass. They never usually missed out on a service unless it happened to be a really serious situation.

“We eat dinner every night at 8:00 p.m. Sharp. if you miss dinner then you missed dinner, the kitchen is closed promptly at 9:00. and lights out at 10:00 p.m. there is a wake up call every day at 4:00 a.m. You are expected to be down at breakfast by 5:00 a.m. and we are out on the training fields by 6:00 a.m. The rules are strict and there are punishments for missing time. We do not train our warriors to be lazy or make excuses. We train them to be the best of the best and the best are not late. our lunches are staggered so you will get your schedule on a daily basis. By the time you get up to your room tonight you will have your training schedule as well as your school schedule. You will b

I missed them so badly, yes we had our issues and we were far from the perfect, happy family that the socialites saw. But we were us. I could count on them, I could cry with them and I could expose my feelings without being judged. The one thing I miss the most was our Sunday dinners. Wherever each of us was, we would gather at home and eat together. Only the three of us. After my little reminiscing moment, I went to get dressed. I looked at the clock and saw that I only had thirty minutes before I had to be at the office, meaning I didn't have time for coffee.

I said wanting to end the uncomfortable conversation She chuckled "I doubt that, no way we fix it all in one day" I scrunched up my face "what do you mean, its Friday right" She looked at me shocked "the storm was Friday" she said looking at me I looked at the clock near the t.v., 10:30 a.m. "so its Satuday morning, thats still enough time to.." "no" she interrupted "Naomi we;ve been asleep for nearly two days today is Sunday" I shook my head at her "bullshit no way" I grabbed the t.v. remote from the side table and turned it on flicking through channels until I landed on the news channel Sunday 10:31 was at the bottom right side of the screen "what the fuck"

Sunday arrived wrapped in soft clouds and cool air, carrying the unhurried rhythm that seemed to belong only to weekends. Sunlight drifted through the apartment in pale bands that slowly stretched across the wooden floor, and for the first time in many years Adrian realized that he could not remember the last Sunday he had spent without opening his laptop before breakfast. The thought did not bring guilt as much as quiet disbelief. He had once accepted that habit as the unavoidable cost of success. Now it seemed more like a choice he had repeated until it became invisible.

The last day before Monday. I thought about all the Sundays this house had produced since I arrived — the Sunday of the thirty-six hours, the Sunday morning breakfast with the invitation to the garden, the Sunday evening my mother returned, the Sunday dinners with the candles and the wine and the managed distances. Sundays had a specific quality in this house, the permission of them, the specific suspension that the weekend produced. This Sunday had no permission in it. This Sunday was the day before the thing. I got up. The house was quieter than usual at seven-thirty.

"Can I help you with anything?" The tinkle of the wind chimes signaled his arrival, but the silence that followed was deafening. I looked up and locked eyes with Emmett, his gaze tinged with sorrow. I fought to keep my composure, my face betraying nothing. "Looking for something in particular?" "Josephine, I've missed you so much..." "If you're just browsing, take your time. We're swamped today, but check out our latest designs over there." I gestured to the side and bent back to my work, snipping at the loose threads and reminding myself to keep pushing forward.

I didn't want to fight with my best friend. "Okay," I said finally, letting out a breath. "I won't try to stop you. If he makes you this happy, then I want you to enjoy it. Just promise me you'll keep an open mind when I explain everything on Sunday. Deal?" "Deal," she said, sounding relieved. "Sunday. Come to mine. We'll talk properly and you'll see there's nothing to worry about." "Sunday," I agreed. ..... But somehow... Sunday didn't happen. Saturday night did.

Sunday is the sole day I sleep without any break, but now I have to lose that facility too. I have really done some bad deed in my past-life...