Series by Student Ambassador Kate Brock
I wake with a start. The wind outside the flat attacks the walls and sifts through the seams in my windowsill. The crackle and whip of air-filled pockets trigger in my head a warning, an omen, a weather watch. I pick up my smart phone to check the forecast, and before I realize it, I am scrolling through Facebook, then my email, and finally Instagram, I have forgotten to breathe, just as I do every morning.
The room is the color of wet slate in the ruddy mist. Shuffling the blankets to cover my shoulders, I look about the cool room, every detail covered in frost. The windowpane dons a silver frame where the dew set just before the chill.
You should spend today reading the stack of books piled on the desk. Make a cup of coffee. Treat yourself. Write a bit, but don’t stress.
All that is interrupted. The alarm rings to say, “7:00,” and I return to the small screen for more. More about the news. More about the president. More about his plans. More about the cancelled programs and the wall. More about anxiety and tension and home. How home is changing and people are growing apart and disparate.
I set it aside and draw my limbs from the bed. Tucking my feet in wool socks, I leave my room for the kitchen.
I shouldn’t have spent half an hour on the internet. Who was it that said they never answer emails before 11 and set their phone in another room at night?