A lanky figure shuffles down the hallway in the early hours of the morning, shorts and t-shirt clad, hair askew.
He stumbles to the fridge, rustles the cans inside, opens one with a click and a kish, slurping first sips without a pause on the return shuffle to the bedroom.
Are you getting into the shower soon?
Mumbles form syllables in response as the door closes. Doors swing open and thud shut with seconds of pause in the hallway between.
Don’t forget to brush. And brush.
More syllable mumbles before the swish of the shower head and the whirring of the electric toothbrush announce activity.
A hooded, lanky figure emerges, backpack slung over shoulder. A glance inside the pack reveals papers shoved behind and in front of binders and folders, some forming an accordion pattern at the bottom of the bag.
I can help you organize those after school.
Was that a shrug or a nod?
Another pause as the ziploc bag with toast is shoved into a front pocket of the bag, immediately after a smooshed, half-eaten one is discarded.
Don’t forget to turn that paper in today.
Syllable mumbles as the front door is opened, pause at the door with keys jangling.
Have a good day.
Mumbles form words, slight head turn back to the right. You, too.
The headlights flash out from the driveway, a slight squeaking of brakes punctuating the pause, before disappearing into the flow of traffic.
Be safe.
Slanted Light 