SmokeSmokeSmokeMoments ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was so quiet when I woke up that morning, not that that was all that abnormal. I rolled out of bed, my feet landing with a quiet thump on the wood floor, and ran a hand through my shaggy red bedhead bob. I glided into the bathroom and started with my daily routine, brushing out the snarls in my short red mop of curly hair, pulling on my glasses so I could see my surroundings properly (at this point I grimaced at the dark bags under my grey-green eyes). I brushed my teeth and washed my face and padded out of the bathroom down to the kitchen.
Here I noticed the oddness of that day, my family was nowhere to be found. There was no Saturday morning breakfast, no sizzling bacon or idle chatter over the eggs in a pan or drizzle of coffee into a mug. I shrugged and disregarded the unease settling in my stomach and traipsed around looking for a note in the kitchen. There was none.
I raised an eyebrow in surprise, even if my family did leave