The house is cold and quiet, except for the familiar sounds of the radio, its familiar DJ introducing songs and going on about the weather.
Yet, there is an unusual quiet beneath the soft drone in the background.
A quiet of expectation and possibility.
Of anticipation and promise.
Like a current underneath the surface, this is not an empty quiet.
It is a soft quiet with hard edges, a step from the edge.
A quiet with depths as yest unseen.
It is an unassuming morning, much like any other. Except that here soon, I will shower, paying special attention to details. He cares about the details. He will notice each line where the razor missed a hair, the scent of...Everywhere.
The details matter because later, he will spread me wide and explore every single inch with a critical and attentive eye.
It is an unassuming morning, much like any other. Yet there is promise in the air. Promise that comes only when beautiful day and deviant night collide to make a glorious new dawn.
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