Short Story: Morning

10:00am and the air was black.  The corners of the dressers were highlighted in red, Mary’s alarm clock, the newly acquired one Sarah and her new husband bought her for her eighty-first birthday.  They demanded the introduction of technology into our house, said we needed to wake up before midday, I retorted that we had no need to be up, save a heated summer’s day where the milk may curdle on the doorstep.  And Mary needs rest so often these days.  But we agreed to set the alarm, no earlier than 10:00am, and simply to please Sarah.  The offensively bright figures shone on the box beside Mary’s head, flashing, as it shrieked in short bursts.  And still she did not wake.  Oh Mary. 

It was the only light source in the room.

No hints of navy blue pervaded through the dark, it was merely black, and thicker than even the night should be, for the street-lights had flicked off on their timer, the amber light, that usually I scorn for invading my privacy, had finally let me be, and I thought I might miss them all too suddenly.

I felt the familiar dryness in my throat, the dust from that damn bed cover had gotten into my throat again, I hate the thing, coated in absurd floral patterns and peacocks.  When Mary had bought it, back in the sixties, it had been her most prized possession, she hung it up on the wall in their little semi-detached and would sneak glances at it over dinner.  But nowadays these colours were two a penny, nothing new, nothing exciting, you could hardly buy a stamp without noticing the gaudy intensity of the blue behind our Queen’s head. 

I coughed painfully into my fist, feeling dust dislodge, somehow the beeping beside Mary’s head did not stir her but my muffled splutters did, and she made a noise like a squeaking mouse.

‘Oh! Fred, is everything okay?’

I glanced again at the alarm clock, which had finally given up on rousing its owner, and now sat in silence.  10:03am and the world is still black.

‘Yes dear,’ I heave myself across the bed and place a hand across hers, on top of the covers, ‘everything’s just fine.’