A Simple Morning Writing Exercise   

The sun was up, an enormous ball of yellow just above the horizon. Jake stood in the doorway, looking, drawn to a sky that appeared washed free of color, save for that sun. Soon, he knew, all would change. The sun would rise farther and farther until it would be a speck high in a wide and cloudless, cerulean sky. It was a California morning, cool and refreshing, the coastal air having slipped in overnight to caress the hills. Jake breathed in.

“Going to be a scorcher,” he said to his wife, Susie who had scooted up behind him. She squeezed his arm gently, his muscles tightening beneath her touch. Oh, how she loved him.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Sure.”

He turned to look at the woman who had said yes to him only two years prior. Her blond hair, in a tangle of curls, fell beyond her shoulders almost to her waist. He touched it, gazing as he did at her eyes, green today. His heart quivered.

“You have bed head,” she grinned.

“You too. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. I dreamed. We were at the beach running on the sand,” she said.

“Nice.”

“It was nice. We were holding hands and laughing, as if we had not a care in the world, and we were so happy,” she sighed.

“Let’s make that dream come true,” he murmured, pulling her close.

“Today?” she questioned.

“Why not?”