Stillness
It is early morning, still. Still. I am the only one up, and the house is littered with torn paper and crumpled ribbons. The sunlight seeps through the spaces in the blinds and gives them a soft irridescence. This is a peaceful moment.
I savor it, because I know it will be shattered in a few hours by the bustle of family. Right now, the only noise is the occasional click or jingle produced by my rotten little bird in his cage. That is easy to ignore.
It is almost as if I am the only one around. The chat rooms and forums are abandoned, as well. I could say, I went to the Internet today, but no one was home.
Solitude is good.
I'm sure that I will be recapping the whole holiday event when I write tomorow. I can recount all of the quirky little things that happen, and tell everyone about my gifts. I dont really feel the enthusiasm to do so, now. I just want to relax.
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