I rose early to the sonorous tones of the foghorn blowing outside the window.  As the first rays of the morning sun fell through the window I rolled slowly out of the bed, being sure not to wake the sleeping beauty beside me.  I pulled the covers up tight around her neck, placed a soft kiss on her forehead and set about making her morning coffee.  As the water was heating in the pot I sat listening to soft, almost lyrical sound, of her somnolent breathing and smiled.  Last night had been wonderful.  I sat and remembering every detail; the feel of her hand in mine while we walked around the city talking, the sound of her voice as she laughed at all my stupid jokes, the taste on her lips from our good night kiss.  All of it amazing to me.  The soft hiss of the coffee pot roused me from my daydream and, just as I heard her start to stir, I made her coffee.  Gentle drafts of steam poured up from the cups as I walked back to the bedroom.  I walked in just as her eyes opened on the day.  She sat up in bed, I kissed her again and then placed the hot cup in her hand.

“Morning babe.  Sleep well?”




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