By Douglas V. Gibbs
A brief moment awake. The clock's glow reveals I still have an hour before my 2:30 AM reveille A brief moment, and then the hour is gone.
A brief moment on a seat. I struggle between life and sleep, rubbing my eyes all the while.
A brief moment she creeps, malice in her mind and soul for this moment. The door opens ever so slowly, my hunched body in view.
"Boo," she says.
The fright will someday drop me dead, but wide awake for the day I am, so sweet is the cool morning air.
-- Political Pistachio Conservative News and Commentary
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