Christmas Morning

Before I knew it, I was waking up.

Which, of course, was a completely and perfectly natural process, obviously. I mean, 'course it is, right? You don't know to wake up, you don't tell yourself to, you just do. Period.

And that would all have been fine and dandy, if only I didn't mean to actually go to sleep. 

No, I blinked and I blinked, and I was expecting to just continue seeing the darkness of my room, the wrinkles of my bed, and the silky soft strands of Ash's hair. 

I didn't expect to be waking up instead. 

The chirp of winter birds singing bright and early rang in my ears. I felt my eyelids lift, the glaring light of winter morning nearly blinding, illuminating everything around me in an almost numbing white.