A serene hue eases into the room. The morning layer of cloud pushes the blue tinge through the window slits. The apartment is full of these cool tones, a reflection of last year’s grey painting frenzy. She smiles at the awkward leftover painting taunting her from across the room. Why is it still there? It pleads pitifully from across the room while she daydreams all the ways she can mutilate it. Punishing it, but for what? Losing her affection?
Muscles are still stiff this morning, worsened by last nights sleep. Relaxation does not come easily. Tightness pulls at her ribcage, and she is greeted by the familiar heaviness weighing down her chest. She will wait it out, comforting herself that eventually it will ease. She plays out the reasons in her mind. It’s just because you dreamt of Harry, its just because your sister called, its just because you’re all wound up, its just because the light is blue. No wait, she likes the light that way.
A chorus of wake-up charms will chatter and insist on her attention. Morning rituals must commence. The room’s blue hue fades, and the heaviness recedes. She stands and removes the painting from the wall.