| Jun. 29th, 2007 @ 11:16 pm A Touching Moment |
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Current Mood:  sleepy
Anvils. I swear someone’s tied anvils to my eyelids. Yet I suspect my journey to the kitchen will go more smoothly if I was to open one - eyelid, that is. Both would of course be even better, but I realize that’s a lot like putting both best feet forward – takes loads more effort with, at best, mixed results. So I settle for one and with much effort, shove it open to welcome the morning.
Oho! The sun has the audacity to be burning brightly into my room this morning. There’s just something too suspicious about so much cheerfulness this early. My eye works to adjust to the light and I manage to roll myself out of bed, attempting to comb my hand through my tufted mass of Weasley bedhead hair. Frowning as I work to untangle my fingers and stagger to the door, I slip on my fuzzy lime green slippers to take the morning chill from my toes. But before stepping out, I make sure to yank up my lime green Marvin the Martian Ray Gun boxers, never knowing who might be wandering the halls of our humble manor.
The stagger to the kitchen is most uneventful, aside from arriving with two eyes open, which for this time of the morning, is quite the oddity. I yawn and scuff my way to the icebox, opening the door and bending to see if I can spy the jug of pumpkin juice – anything to get that ‘brown’ taste out of my mouth.
Moments later I feel warmth nearby, which might not be a bad thing, depending on its source. But when its source is large, male, hovering too close, and breathing down on me, I don’t find said warmth in the least bit comforting. In fact, ‘not comforting’ moves quickly to disconcerting when I find gentle pressure and an exceptionally warm, palm-sized patch of warmth applied to my left cheek – and I do not mean of the face on the upper half of my body.
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