Sound

Awaking early in the morning, smelling the crisp air of autumn, she tumbled out of bed, sheets swishing together softly in the small hours of the morning. She donned her slippers and robe, tying the strings and exiting the room to the creak of the door and the flapping of the robe against her tiny ankles. Padding softly down the hall she heard the sweet melody played by the wind gently teasing the wind chimes she hung outside her front door. Smiling contentedly, she turned on the water faucet to fill her teakettle, listening to the splashing as she looked out the window to her back yard. So absorbed in watching the trees swaying in the breeze she forgot the water, which began cascading over the rim, loudly splattering in the metal sink. Laughter sounding of tiny bells rang throughout the house as she turned off the faucet with a squeak, and set the kettle to boil. She sank into the chair with gentle sigh, sitting lost in thought. The grandfather clock struck three loudly, startling her from her dreams and causing her to leap from her chair with fright. The chair landed with a dull thud, slamming down against the hard wood floors so fun to slide on in socks. Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she righted the chair, only to jump a moment later as the kettle began to whistle shrilly, telling her the water was ready. Turning of the burner she made her tea and sat stirring it, metal spoon hitting the sides of her cup as she swirled it to cool it. Gazing into her cup she became entranced with the liquid circles, lifting it to her lips taking gentle sips. Finally, slurping quietly, she finished her morning tea ritual. Placing the cup and spoon in the sink she walked back to her room with an added bounce in her step; tea always made her feel more awake and happy in the mornings. Drawing on her clothes she reached for an elastic band to hold her mass of brown curls, band snapping sharply against her hair as she pulled it tight. With a quick check in the mirror she tied on her jogging shoes.1

Heading down the hallway she grabbed her keys from the table by the door, locked the door, and placed her jingling keys in her purse. Taking a deep breath, hearing nothing but the chirping of birds, she set off, filling the air with her light steady footstep as she headed off on her morning jog.2