This is my first time participating in Write on Wednesday. The prompt: Pick your favorite song and write down the first line of lyrics OR turn on the radio and write down the first line of lyrics you hear. Then set your timer for five minutes and write the first words that come into your head after your writing prompt.
I took the first line from Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine "Happiness hit her like a train on a track..."
The alarm was ringing. Olivia mentally calculated the option of hitting the snooze button for the third time, taking into account that Matthew's clock was seven minutes fast. Seven minutes, plus four minutes for each 'snooze', and subtract the actual time on the clock meant that it was 7:15. She hated being forced to perform morning math. The consciousness required to add and subtract definitely caused her to be more alert, and she decided it wasn’t worth the extra minutes of sleep. Maybe that was Matt's latest attempt at getting her out of bed earlier. Good luck with that, she mumbled into her pillow after shutting the alarm completely off. Not even the smell of the coffee from downstairs made her want to get up.
Olivia listened to the noises drifting up through the old floorboards beneath the bed and could recognize the sounds as those from Matt's typical morning routine. She wondered if he knew that his weekday habits were so orchestrated. If she knew more about music, she could probably create a score based on the rhythm of his movements. She counted the silent beats and waited for the last soft thud of the cupboard door that would indicate he was getting his travel cup out to fill with coffee. Before he headed out for the train, he would be back upstairs to say goodbye. It should only be a matter of moments. She felt that she should at least *act* like she was awake.
Rolling herself over onto her back, she was surprised at how tired she still felt even after getting a decent night's sleep. She wasn't sure if it was just the hectic schedule she'd been keeping lately, or the fact that she was inching ever closer to the witching age of forty. She allowed her eyes to open. The curtains filtered the early October sun but there was still enough light to capture the errant flecks of dust floating through the air. It was time to dust the bedroom. Olivia wondered if she could trade Matthew a get-up-early credit for a dusting chore. She yawned. So tired.
“G’morning, sleepyhead,” Matt pulled gently on her blanket-covered toes as he rounded her side of the bed to get a kiss.
“Hey, sweetie," she replied. "Sorry I didn’t get up in time to fix you a lunch today. I’m just so so tired.”
“That’s okay. I’ve told you a million times that you don’t have to make my lunches. And anyway, it’s Friday, so me and a couple of the guys will probably grab lunch on the go anyway.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. "I brought you some coffee." He handed Olivia her favorite blue mug with the small chip out of the rim. She took it from him and set it on the nightstand without taking a sip.
“No coffee? Are you coming down with something?” He ran the back of his hand across her forehead. “Hmmm. You don’t seem to have a fever.”
“I’m fine. No fever worries. I just feel like a truck rolled over me in the middle of the night. I am achy and tired, but I’m sure I’m not getting sick. I’m just whiny and feeling drained. It has been a long week,” Olivia responded. She tried her best not to sound like a hypochondriac, but didn’t feel like it was working.
Flinging the blankets back, she curled her knees up and around Matthew, squeezing him against her. She leaned up to pull him closer and planted a kiss on his neck.