Now, this kind of silence is another story. Last week, the daytime silence had me uneasy. This morning, I find myself noticing the quiet again.
The wake up clock sits dim in her room, awaiting its moment to activate the soothing green glow. Her body is still, her chest gently rises and falls without a sound. Sheets, rumpled and tangled, rest at her feet while stuffed animals lie askew next to her, on her, and on the floor.
I am showered, my hair has been dried. I have nine minutes. Nine minutes to catch up with the news of my world through a quick scroll of Facebook. Maybe put a word or two on the blog. This is the best kind of silence. Cool air outside means a cozy blanket on my toes. A peaceful sleepy head in the other room means a moment to breathe for me.
Wake up time will come soon enough, bringing with it the chaos of yet another school day. For one more second, I turn my head and listen. To nothing.