When the Morning Comes By Raymond Roy
The unexpected news right after the pep rally, made the understood plans of a Friday football game date and Saturday movie plans vanish. Standing outside the gym, stunned, in shock, as if struck in the heart with an ice pick.
The drawing of a deep breath, a runny nose, a tear stained pillow. Bedroom door cracked open, luminescent flashes of the latest episode of Dallas are cast upon the mahogany bedroom door, highlighting its skin-like texture.
Click. The family heads off to bed. Rolling over, looking out the north facing window, the ebony sky offers a show of the occasional shooting star. As the moon makes its journey across the sky, it momentarily pauses in the side yard to provide a perfect silhouette of the dropping top of the mammoth western hemlock spruce.
Coyotes welcome the night with their painful yowls. The phosphorescent Radium painted hands on the bedside alarm clock glow a soft green light. The hypnotic spring driven second hand ticks become almost deafening in the dark tunnel of heartbreak. Another deep breath. Outside, the darkness softens, the rooster crows and it is time for morning chores.