Cold Sunday Morning

She woke up slow. There was the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof. She yawned and rolled over, pulling the covers further over herself. On a Sunday morning like this, why shouldn’t she sleep more? Still…she found herself not able to drift back into her quiet dreams. She looked at the soft white painted wall next to the bed and blinked a few times. Maybe it was time to get up after all.

She swung her legs over the bed and hunched over, letting out another yawn and rubbing at her eyes. Another glance over her shoulder at the window in her room. The curtains were drawn but she could tell it was still raining. It was dark, cloudy…the perfect Sunday morning. Her bare feet touched the cool hardwood floor and she hissed slightly. Maybe it was time to turn on the heat. Her bed let out a creak as she stood and shuffled her way into the living room. A small orange cat stirred on the couch and looked up at her sleepily. He didn’t seem to want to be awake either. She smiled and made her way over to a small fireplace. Her limbs felt like they were still sleeping as she knelt down and pulled open the heavy cast iron door. She grabbed some twigs and branches and delicately placed them into the small fireplace. With another yawn she reached out and felt around the top of the fireplace for a box of matches. The box was old and worn out from years of use. One match left. She’d actually have to buy a new box. With a strike against the worn out box, the match sprung to life and she placed it against the kindling.

A small fire started and warmth immediately started to seep out to her. A sigh. The smoke of a fresh fire in the morning was so relaxing. She grabbed a small log, placing it into her already burning fire. The fire slowly started to lick at the log until that eventually started as well. Pleased with her work she closed the small door and rubbed her arms. It was chilly this morning.

She shuffled her way into the small kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. Some tea would surely warm her up. With a few clicks the stove caught and started to warm the kettle. She took a few more steps towards the window and pulled the sheer curtain aside, watching lingering rain drops fall to the ground. The sun may not come out at all today, she thought. Then there was a small brush against her leg. She looked down and smiled at the small orange cat. He looked back up at her and let out a quiet meow.

“Hungry, bud?” She smiled as he responded with another meow and leapt up onto the counter. She grabbed a small metal bowl from the floor and set it down. She opened a ceramic jar and scooped out some food, pouring it into his metal bowl and setting it back on the floor. He immediately jumped down and hunched over in front of it, crunching some of the pieces. She smiled. The kettle started to hiss, alerting that the water was ready. She spun around and grabbed one of her favorite tea bags from the box. The last one. Mentally she started a shopping list. Tea bags. Matches. The necessities. She took the kettle from the stove and poured the steaming water over her tea. Immediately the scent of Earl Grey filled her nostrils. She breathed a sigh and smiled, setting the kettle back down and shutting off the stove. She took her cup and made her way back into the living room. She climbed into the bay window and pulled a throw over her lap. It was still dark and cloudy, the distant pattering of rain still present. She sighed and let the warmth of her tea make it’s way through her hands and up her arms.

She carefully brought the cup to her lips and took a slow sip. Warmth immediately filled her. It slid carefully down her throat and settled in her stomach, relaxing her bones and joints from the cold. She closed her eyes and just embraced the feeling for a moment, opening her eyes again to smile at the rain. If being cold was the trade off for moments like that, let it be cold. When she opened her eyes again she was greeted with the same cloudy sky and lingering rain drops.

The small cat from the kitchen made it’s way into the living room and jumped into the bay window with her, stretching and eventually settling down. She smiled down at him and rested her head against the wall. Another sip of tea. Another cold Sunday morning.

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