"Rise and shine!" you say, holding the sterling silver tray in front of you, a small pyramid of bread products wobbling precariously on it next to a goblet of freshly-made raspberry jam.
You hear a soft grumbling coming from the mess of white linen that covers the bed. Beneath the chaos of sheets you can make out her outline. She's sleeping face down, her cheek pressed against a pillow but her head and body completely blanketed in white. The sun is streaming through the open windows. She's fighting the light with darkness. You decide to try again.
"Wakey, wakey!"
Nothing.
"Rise and shine," you try again. This time you get a real reaction. Something moves underneath the bedsheets and the top blanket falls unceremoniously to the side of the bed, revealing the lower profile of a long and still youthful figure. You trace the delicate skin with your eyes, from its emergence at the hip, down along an endless leg. Hanging over the precipice of the mattress, you spy a cute little foot, different color nail polish painting each toe. Over the edge, at the base of the bed, is last night's outfit: a tiny floral print summer dress crumpled up in a pile, a matching bra and panties pair left on top, blue and white striped, cute but still conservative.
"What is it?" Taylor asks faintly, still in partial slumber, still wrapped up in comfortably a whirlwind of undersheets.
"Here. I brought you bagels."
"Bagels?" With that Taylor sits up cross-legged against the bedhead, flinging a shower of bread crumbs from the bed as her body twists upright, throwing the sheets off her and onto the end of the mattress. Her hair is declaring war on itself, and along with the smell of stale bread you get a strong whiff of pretty girl smell mixed with unwashed body odour. Despite the speed at which she sat up, she doesn't look very happy with you.
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
