Late and Early Risers

Clarissa pushed away a tangled mound of red hair from her eyes, wrapping her robe more tightly around her body as she swayed toward the open french doors. Outside, the pebble patio looked out onto an awe-inspiring sunrise. She leaned in the doorway, squinting at the horizontal beaming rays of light as they slipped beneath a distant bank of clouds, like seeing a light under a cosmic door. The water rippled gently toward the sandy shore, a counter-woven pattern of wind playing across its surface. It glittered, and made Clarissa smile.
Nathan curved himself back around his chair, one hand cradling a steaming mug of coffee. He greeted Clarissa with a smile of his own, beckoning her to the matching chair by his side. He rose as she sat, “I’ll make you some tea.”
“You don’t have to.” Clarissa protested, halfheartedly.
Nathan’s smile widened. “I know.”
When he returned, they sat together, watching the gold of the early morning fade slowly into rainy grey.
Clarissa asked, “Do you ever sleep?”
“Sometimes,” he said.

View this story's 1 comments.