A lanquid yawn escaping a shapeless mouth.

A stretch so sweet, promising to linger, you just know you’ll never be up and about.

Some giggles, some thuds, some pitter pattering feet.

The pressure cooker hissing away, promising a king’s feast.

The droning din from the television no one’s watching.

The window sill battle of the pigeon and crow, who’s winning, who’s lagging.

The washing machine is steady but shaking with passion.

The fruit vendor wafts by the window, shouting his prices in a sing song fashion

Feet are stacked on some more feet.

Hearts and tummies are full, it’s time for some more of that sleep so sweet.

Who would have thought the lazy, the familiar, and the mundane,

Could bring such peace and comfort, time and time again!

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