Day in the Morning

Day is an early riser and demands the same of everybody else.

I'm a light-sleeper and today I hear shouts. I hear feet padding up the stairs and know my siblings are yelling because Day is climbing up alone again. My brother follows and they both reach my room. I roll over and try to glare. I fail.

Day babbles with child-speak, I don't pretend to listen. I roll over and sleep.

A couple of hours later and Day stands to my right again, beside the same brother, and coaxes me awake with child-speak. I squint and roll over once more.

I wake up, hours later still, and it is silent. Day's mother, my sister, comes up and goes to sleep, weary from work.

I hear Day below, shrieking and clapping about bubbles. Probably dancing, too.

I'm not a morning person.