The Sunrise

S.J. Elliott
Tell Your Story
Published in
2 min readJan 21, 2023

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Photo by Timothy Flippo on Unsplash

Luke-warm coffee sits in her favorite mug as she slowly paces back and forth in front of the big kitchen window.

The night-grey sky lightens with each moment, and hints of color begin to brighten the atmosphere. Dusty blue and muted orange appear first, streaked across the fading stars.

Watching the sunrise is a secret pleasure, one she saves for the most melancholy mornings.

She longs for the sounds of the Pacific; crashing waves and birdsong blessings beckoning her from the gossamer slumber of dreamland.

She longs for the calming timber of their voice and the feel of hands roaming across her skin.

She longs for a life that was never promised.

She longs for a heart that is whole.

Bright as gold, the sun peeks across the horizon, its rays unfurling into a new day.

Hope and gratitude arrive with the light, and she thinks about how different everything looks in the gleaming moments of quiet before her corner of the world is fully awake.

She thinks about the long hours of the night and how easy it is to lose your way against the nothingness.

She thinks about her secret heart, buried under the wreckage of unhappy moments and shattered dreams. It is an oubliette filled with all of the pieces of herself that no longer fit the narrative of her life.

She thinks about what it might feel like to take each of those pieces and hold them up against the dawn; would the vampiric energy evaporate or be fortified by the amber light? It is too risky to attempt.

Stone-cold coffee sits in her favorite mug as she paces. Her focus adrift against the battle of another day.

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S.J. Elliott
Tell Your Story

Aspiring story-teller. Ordained coffee connoisseur. I write about processing personal trauma, & my quest to be a better version of myself as a human/woman/wife.