(short story)

I wake up early in the morning, at 05:00. It is quiet around. There is no hurry. When I get ready, I am trying not to make any noise, so as not to Wake my mother and brother. And if the door is treacherously banged, I would anxiously freeze in the hope not to hear the rustling in their rooms.

I go gently. I stretch slowly. I pack calmly. I like to sit on the bed for a long time with a towel on my head and drink coffee. Like to fool around in the mirror. Like to fall on the bed and give me five minutes of rest after each completed trifle… Like to sing along to songs, imagining that I am a great artist…

The awakening of nature gives me special pleasure. Sunrise. Birdsong. And then people Wake up. The drivers start dashing at high speeds… My Mom leaves the room and says, “Good morning”, and if you do not get enough sleep — she raises her high-five in greeting. After that my brother Miron crawls out. He always frowns in the morning. I don’t want to go to University.

I spend the morning slowly.

And I enjoy it.

Gotta go… Have a good one…

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