They were sitting at their desk – nothing unusual - their usual morning routine. He had gotten up, as usual, earlier than she because their dog woke him, as usual, wanting to have breakfast and go out. She remained in bed, still sleeping, he hoped, but often she was only resting until he got back and was already at their desk.
They enjoyed the routine of her coming into their study where he was checking the morning’s email and other pertinent websites which set the day in motion – he always immediately got up to share a good morning hug. It was a wonderful way to begin the day.
She’d join him at their desk – they gotten one large enough to accommodate both of them as they worked on their various projects – and she’d check her email and other pertinent websites.
It was all a part of their usual routine and, while to some, it might seem like a rut, it was perfectly natural and comfortable to them; as was the comfortable silence while they both focused on their tasks.
A prelude to the day ahead, a glimpse into the unknown as they both perused their computer screen listings and looked for the news of the day, not the world news, but their own, private news that would set wheels in motion one way or the other.
Would today bring news of a new publication – something to cheer about, to celebrate? Today – yes! A poem of hers was being published, marking a significant goal in a periodical. That alone was enough to fill them with joy for today, and probably tomorrow.
But tomorrow was another day and they’d begin it in their usual way. Today, the sun was shining both inside and out.
Today was a good day.
They enjoyed the routine of her coming into their study where he was checking the morning’s email and other pertinent websites which set the day in motion – he always immediately got up to share a good morning hug. It was a wonderful way to begin the day.
She’d join him at their desk – they gotten one large enough to accommodate both of them as they worked on their various projects – and she’d check her email and other pertinent websites.
It was all a part of their usual routine and, while to some, it might seem like a rut, it was perfectly natural and comfortable to them; as was the comfortable silence while they both focused on their tasks.
A prelude to the day ahead, a glimpse into the unknown as they both perused their computer screen listings and looked for the news of the day, not the world news, but their own, private news that would set wheels in motion one way or the other.
Would today bring news of a new publication – something to cheer about, to celebrate? Today – yes! A poem of hers was being published, marking a significant goal in a periodical. That alone was enough to fill them with joy for today, and probably tomorrow.
But tomorrow was another day and they’d begin it in their usual way. Today, the sun was shining both inside and out.
Today was a good day.
