The silent lounge is blazing bright and busy. It rejoices as its occupants lay claim to the space often neglected before. An impromptu family activity is in progress, felt tips spilling from the pages onto the table, marking the moment. Noisy music in the background banishes the silence, the occasional battlecry surfacing often.
Staying in feels feasible. Though sometimes not.
“The clocks spring forward tomorrow,” someone utters. A flutter of relief. An hour swallowed in sleep spares the pain of killing it.
The unspoken fact is blissfully ignored; the hour will be regurgitated back with a lingering and unpleasant aftertaste.
Asha lives in Leicestershire. When she is not homeschooling, she enjoys writing short stories and flash. She has always struggled with her running, now it is the highlight of her day.
100 Words Of Solitude 