The Day That Lied

The Day That Lied

I woke up at five for the sunrise. The house was silent, and peaceful - very rare. The sun rose at about 5:45, and brought with it the golden glorious light of morning. The birds were singing their heads off; the trees were that vivid shade of green that lasts for about a week before it subsides to the sober dark green of summer. It was the perfect temperature, slightly chilly with a tinge of the young sun’s new rays. I studied Theology joyfully thinking what a wonderful day it would be. The day promised so much with all its sweet crispness. Everything would be perfect.

By 2:00 I was inundated. There was so much to do, and so little time. The relentless radiant sun soared across the sky without a second thought about what little time it left in its stead. The Geometry Ch. 8 Test by 2:15 had to be done. As well as three chapters of fabulous Philosophy that I had managed to mindlessly put off. Oh, and that blasted Biology test due Tuesday, which I hadn’t even read the chapter for. Not to mention the 4 weeks of backed up Latin. How it lingered without my realization… I’ll never know. Did I mention the essay due Friday which I haven’t even commenced? Or the Geometry quiz and Algebra homework both due tomorrow? What abut all those sorry Humanities quizzes that keep slipping by?

The day didn’t listen when I told it. It was heartless, and ignored my pressing pleas. The birds still sang their contented song, lacking nothing in their perfect lives. The fair trees stayed green, they wouldn’t even fall a leaf for me. The sky remained cloudless, retaining its broken promise: The promise now smashed to glittering pieces, and flung far amid the heavens. The shards made it ever more splendid.

It ought have been, a grey, dismal, cloudy, day. Silent birds, brown trees, and a drizzly day. A furious tornado would have been fitting. Instead, it was the converse. How very strange and cruel of a day to break its steadfast promise.

Do not doubt me, I won’t forget it.

Tip: Don't trust days.