Fiction

Photo by Paul Gilmore on Unsplash

Martha woke in a stupor. She was overwhelmingly tired though she had slept eight solid hours without a trip to the bathroom. She sat up and covered her face blocking the sunlight pouring into the room. She always left her blinds open. It was her alarm clock. Whenever the sun rose, the light covered her like sparkling jewels, fully spreading over her. She hated alarm clocks and broke many, throwing them across the room. She loved…