the hour is late. my eyelids are starting to droop, but here i am, still writing.
the smell of freshly-baked bread still lingers in the air from earlier this evening. it is a sweet, sweet smell that evokes feelings of comfort and home.
michael buble’s soothing voice sings on, quietly, softly in the background.
i can hear the clock tick-ticking behind me, each tick reminding me that it is late, and that early alarm clock isn’t waiting for anybody tomorrow morning.
i rest my chin on my hand with my elbow on the desk before me. my eyes close for a minute, taking in the relief of relaxation.
but here i am, still writing.
this post was inspired by the daily prompt from the wordpress daily post! http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/29/daily-prompt-now-2/