A/N: I bought myself a copy of The Velvet Underground & Nico yesterday. There was a sale at FNAC- 4 CDs for 20 Euros. To an American (Myself) it looked like an awesome deal. Too bad a Euro is worth more than a dollar, huh? I digress. The first track to the CD is "Sunday Morning." I looked up the lyrics out of curiosity because I remembered Maroon Five also had a "Sunday Morning" track. When I hit enter in Google search, countless other bands had written nostalgic ballads about the allusive Sunday morning. Sunday mornings aren't always what they're cracked up to be. Our narrator knows this very well.
I woke up with a fright, my heart pounding in my chest. My skin was sticky with the light sheen of a sweat, my blanket tangled on and around my feet. I was still laying down, my eyes staring straight at the plain white ceiling of my bedroom.
The nightmare still lurked at the back of my mind. The images were slowly fading, and I tried desperately to regain them. It was few and far between that I dreamed- so even a night terror was a blessing. The images were mocking me- appearing in my mind's eyes in fast images but then quickly fading into nothing.
With a sigh, I gave up search for what woke me up so abruptly. A loud snore erupted from my room mate, causing me to fully awaken. He snorted once more in his sleep before scratching himself, then turning over.
Our shared bedroom was one of many in the small house we lived in. All of the housemates were merely friends who couldn't afford to live alone or where-ever they came from any longer. The beds in the house were cheap, and as comfortable as cardboard on a sidewalk. The pillows were stiff as bones, until fully broken into after years of using. The house had two air conditioners: one placed in the living, and the second discarded in the hallway window (broken and useless).
I had assumed, as most of my house mates had, that the night would be cool. We were all hoping for rain in the night, from the look of the dark clouds during the day yesterday. Obviously, the muggy Saturday weather lingered into Sunday.
I rubbed my hands over my face, feeling the frown settling in deeply in my face. I had moved into the house a few months ago, and my frown was almost always perpetual- but usually shallow and easily manipulated. Obviously, today my face would stay burdened.
I was homesick, I knew that. I missed living in the city, where noise was constant. The house I lived in now had a lawn and the only noise was of the crickets and someone flicking through the channels of the television.
I literally shook myself a little to get rid of my nostalgic feelings. It didn't work, but at least my body was fully awake and my mind was comprehending full sentences. Mechanically, I grabbed a change of clothes and rushed to the bathroom on light feet. Being that I had woken up on account of a dream, and not my alarm clock, I had to do things quietly as to not wake anyone else up.
The sun was just rising when I finished my shower. Sticking my hand out of the curtain, I reached for my towel but grabbed nothing but air. I had forgotten to bring my towel in the bathroom. We didn't keep towels in the bathroom. I groaned and looked at mysely pityfully, standing naked and wet like a dog caught in the rain.
I shook my head, spraying thick water droplets on the shower curtain. I thought about using my pajamas to dry myself off; I thought of that as I was shaking my entire body- limbs and all- like a cat after being given a bath. My frown set further into my face.
Q: What do you think the protagonist's gender is? I couldn't decide myself.
*I obviously do not own Google, Velvet Underground, Maroon Five, or any other already copy righted/trade marked things mentioned in this piece of fiction. Come on guys- if I did, would I seriously be writing this stuff? ..Probably.