1:The Quiet Before The News

The golden hues of dawn painted the sky with delicate streaks of pink and orange, as if the sun had gently brushed its canvas. A soft breeze carried the earthy scent of dew-soaked grass, mingling with the faint aroma of blooming flowers. Dedicated farmers had already risen early, tending to cows, collecting eggs, and harvesting crops. The fields of the rural area were already buzzing with activity, while at home, the masters of the land were preparing breakfast, and others were at the market selling fresh produce.

The trucks from the city lined up, ready to collect the harvest for delivery to urban dwellers. It was almost the end of the holidays, and the parents were busy putting their noses to the grindstone, trying to earn money to buy school supplies, pay fees, and feed their families. Kamon's grandmother and mother were already in the kitchen, while her father had gone to sell milk and eggs at the market. He was now on his way home after collecting the mail from the post office.

Birds chirped in a harmonious chorus, their melodies rising with the sun's warm embrace. The world seemed to stretch and awaken—leaves rustled, distant sounds of life stirred—a dog barked, a door creaked open. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, casting long, playful shadows on the ground, promising a day full of endless possibilities.

Kamon, however, was still in bed when the noise from her mother and grandmother pierced her slumber. "What a nuisance," she mumbled to herself, pulling the blanket over her head like it would somehow create a soundproof barrier.

She tossed and turned in bed, trying to block out the high-pitched conversations that seemed louder than a hundred alarm clocks. No matter how much she yanked the blanket tighter, it didn't help. "Seriously? I swear they're auditioning for the 'Loudest Human on Earth' competition," Kamon grumbled, muffling her voice into the pillow.

"Why do they have to talk like they're on the phone with someone who's half a mile away? It's 8 AM, not the Olympics of gossip!" Kamon groaned as she sat up, glaring at the ceiling. She pulled her pillow over her ears as if it were some sort of magic sound-dampening device. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she kicked the blanket off her legs.

"Oh, sure, because nothing says 'relaxing morning' like listening to Grandma and Mom rehearse every single conversation they've ever had... in 'surround sound,'" she mumbled sarcastically to herself.

After a moment of pure frustration, Kamon reached for her phone and typed out a text to her mom. "Hey, could you lower the volume? I'm trying to enjoy the 'sweet sounds of silence.'"

Sighing dramatically, she pulled the blanket back around her shoulders, grumbling as she dragged herself out of bed.

"Honestly, at this point, I might need a noise-canceling life," she muttered under her breath.

Kamon's bedroom was a sanctuary of coziness, filled with personalized touches that made it feel like home. The walls were painted in soft pastels of lavender and mint green, while wooden furniture added a rustic charm. Her queen-sized bed was the centerpiece, covered in fluffy pillows, a patterned duvet, and a knitted throw blanket. Soft, twinkling fairy lights adorned the walls and headboard, adding a warm, magical glow to the space.

Her vanity table, with a large mirror framed by LED lights, held neatly arranged makeup and skincare products. A small desk sat in one corner with her laptop and books, paired with a comfy chair. Shelves displayed photos, books, and collectibles, while a soft rug underfoot added a cozy touch. Potted plants brightened the room, and her closet—organized with clothes, shoes, and accessories—completed the look.

Though they lived in a rural area, Kamon wouldn't have it any other way. She preferred the peace and tranquility of her village over the hustle and bustle of city life, with its car honks and endless noise. To Kamon, rural life felt like an adventure. In spring, they tended to the garden; on rainy days, they played in puddles; in summer, they soaked up the sun. Each season had its own charm, far removed from the chaos of urban life.

The village, calm and untainted by modernity, felt like a safe haven—a place where people still valued culture, not just consumerism.

Kamon began her morning routine by heading to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with minty toothpaste that immediately woke her up. She then stepped into a warm shower, letting the water wash away any remnants of sleepiness as she used her favorite citrus-scented body wash and shampoo.

After drying off with a soft towel, she moved to her vanity to apply her usual skincare routine. She washed her face with a gentle cleanser, followed by toner, moisturizer, and sunscreen. Since she was in the mood, she added a light touch of makeup for a fresh look, even though her younger brother would criticize her, calling it "childish."

For her outfit, Kamon went for something casual but comfy—a pastel-colored top, denim shorts, and white leggings. She completed the look with slip-on sandals and a simple bracelet. After tying her hair into a ponytail, she was ready to take on the day.

Kamon walked out of her bedroom confidently, her footsteps echoing like a runway model.

Standing in the hallway, her younger brother Tee shook his head in mock disbelief. "I've always told you to dress like a girl, not like someone auditioning for a circus. And stop slapping on so much makeup. I can't even tell if it's you or a celebrity impersonator!"

Kamon paused, giving him a deadly glare. "Thanks for the unsolicited fashion advice, dear brother," she said, walking past him with a dismissive wave.

Tee smirked as Kamon passed. "Girls!" he said loudly and dramatically, as if it were a universal problem.

Kamon stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around with an eyebrow raised. "Tee, maybe go style your own hair before telling others how to present themselves," she shot back, before continuing on her way with a graceful stride.

Tee rubbed his hair with both hands, inspecting himself in an imaginary mirror.

"Hmm, my hair is perfect. She's just too old to recognize the newest and latest trends. Poor thing, stuck in last season," he mused to himself.

Kamon, who had already entered another room, yelled, "Last season? Coming from the guy who's still wearing his gym clothes from middle school!"

Tee looked down at his shirt and grinned. "Hey, it's called 'vintage!'"

Kamon continued her walk toward the living room with exaggerated steps, hoping the drama would subside. Just as she was about to settle in, her father arrived from the market, groceries and mail in hand.

He was dressed in a breathable cotton polo shirt, relaxed-fit jeans, slip-on sneakers, and a lightweight canvas tote for carrying the groceries.

He walked into the living room and sat next to Kamon, handing her the groceries. "Go give this to your grandmother and mother."

Kamon took the groceries with a smile. "Sure thing, Your Majesty. Anything else you'd like delivered while I'm at it?"

"Well, maybe a cold drink and a lifetime of peace, but let's not push our luck," her father said, pretending to think.

Kamon laughed and walked into the kitchen. "Coming right up, Your Highness!"

The kitchen was sleek and modern, with marble countertops and white cabinets. The open layout featured a central island with bar stools for casual dining, and stainless steel appliances added a polished touch. Small appliances, like a blender and coffee maker, sat on the counter. A trendy backsplash added color, and under-cabinet lighting created a cozy glow. The sink area, with a window that let in natural light, completed the space. Her grandmother and mother were still gossiping in the kitchen as Kamon walked in.

Back in the living room:

"Dad, why can't you call her 'babe' like you used to when you were dating? You know, back in the day when you still had hair and hope," Tee said as he strolled in and plopped down on the couch.

The father shot Tee a mock glare. "First of all, my hair left because it couldn't handle the stress you and your sister bring. Secondly, calling her 'babe' now? She'd laugh so hard, she'd probably choke on those groceries."

Tee snickered. "Come on, Dad. You could at least try. It might bring back the 'spark.'"

The father leaned back dramatically. "The spark is fine, son. It's just evolved into a comfortable glow of mutual tolerance and shared Wi-Fi bills."

Kamon peered her head in from the kitchen. "Spark? Glow? Sounds more like a flickering candle to me."

The father grinned. "Well, at least it's still burning. Unlike Tee's grades last semester."

Tee gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Low blow, Dad. Low blow."

Her father smirked and patted Tee on the back. "Consider it payback for the hair and hope comment, champ."

After a few more rounds of sibling banter, their father decided to check the mail, starting with the daily newspaper. But then, his eyes landed on the second-last letter. The return address was from a school in Bangkok where he had recently applied for a job. "I hope it's what I'm waiting for," he mumbled to himself, opening the letter.

As he read the contents, a look of shock crossed his face. "Oh!" he exclaimed, his voice full of disbelief.

The rest of the family, still in the kitchen, froze. Kamon, with a half-eaten apple in hand, and Tee, remote control in tow, rushed to the living room.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Tee asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"My résumé has been accepted by the school," their father said, smiling.

The grandmother, still holding a knife with a plastic glove on, patted her chest in relief. "Oh, I thought someone had gotten hurt!"