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       Not A Morning Person

       First, sound trickles in your ear like beads from
       a pearl necklace somersaulting down a 
       staircase. Then, the slow caterpillar of
       awareness creeps up on you of the three
       hundred count sheets wrapped snug around you. Light
       peeks under your eyelids, hopeful for a
       willing playmate. Reluctant, you pull the 
       sheets down, phalanx against oncoming day.
       Your defenses are shattered by odor
       of warm greasy breakfast cooking in the
       next room. A smile comes as you realize 
       that boyfriend and breakfast tempt you awake.