Morning Fog
Jennifer Cudmore
Prof. L. Gertsma
English Composition 1
6 September, 2012
“Morning Fog”
I often wonder how many opportunities I’ve let slip by throughout my life. Countless colorful sunsets, too many moons rising into the night sky to even count, or even something as simple as a glance in the mirror at my own reflection. Far too many times I have been too busy or too tired to stop and notice what I’m missing.
On one particular morning a few days ago, I awoke to the piercing sound of my alarm blaring in my ear. Even though the piece of technology had merely sprouted legs of its own to bury itself under my pillow, I could still hear it as clear as a bull horn through my sleepiness. I managed to groggily press the correct button on the flat piece of glass that was the surface of my cell phone.
There’s two buttons to choose from and if I’m not careful, I would find myself pressing the button that would allow me to drift off to the land of odd happenings, to unicorns and fairy dust, and to the place where time seems to stand still. Often times, when this unfortunate mishap has occurred, I would wake in such frenzy that I could feel the labored breaths as they attempted to escape from my lungs. My heart was beating in such a fashion as to erupt straight through my chest. Luckily this was not one of those days and I began to untangle myself from the covers that so gently held me throughout the night. The temperature change was abrupt and waves began to rush over my skin like lake water lapping the rocks of a shoreline. My long, cold fingers reached through the darkness toward the switch on the wall. My eyes quickly clenched shut as if anticipating the searing pain that was about to commence once the switch was turned. With a loud click, electricity rushed the filament of the crystal globe and exceptionally bright light stretched through every corner of my room that was just as dark as dirty oil a moment ago. Making the unbearable attempt to adjust to the
Prof. L. Gertsma
English Composition 1
6 September, 2012
“Morning Fog”
I often wonder how many opportunities I’ve let slip by throughout my life. Countless colorful sunsets, too many moons rising into the night sky to even count, or even something as simple as a glance in the mirror at my own reflection. Far too many times I have been too busy or too tired to stop and notice what I’m missing.
On one particular morning a few days ago, I awoke to the piercing sound of my alarm blaring in my ear. Even though the piece of technology had merely sprouted legs of its own to bury itself under my pillow, I could still hear it as clear as a bull horn through my sleepiness. I managed to groggily press the correct button on the flat piece of glass that was the surface of my cell phone.
There’s two buttons to choose from and if I’m not careful, I would find myself pressing the button that would allow me to drift off to the land of odd happenings, to unicorns and fairy dust, and to the place where time seems to stand still. Often times, when this unfortunate mishap has occurred, I would wake in such frenzy that I could feel the labored breaths as they attempted to escape from my lungs. My heart was beating in such a fashion as to erupt straight through my chest. Luckily this was not one of those days and I began to untangle myself from the covers that so gently held me throughout the night. The temperature change was abrupt and waves began to rush over my skin like lake water lapping the rocks of a shoreline. My long, cold fingers reached through the darkness toward the switch on the wall. My eyes quickly clenched shut as if anticipating the searing pain that was about to commence once the switch was turned. With a loud click, electricity rushed the filament of the crystal globe and exceptionally bright light stretched through every corner of my room that was just as dark as dirty oil a moment ago. Making the unbearable attempt to adjust to the