The beginning was always the weirdest time, so much anticipation and anxiety and impatience all rolled up into a ball of energy trapped in the confined space of the morning ablutions. It was dealt with quickly, too much to get done to waste time on pointless beautifying.
Day one was the day to begin adventures. Day one was the day where the best laid plans either succeed or die.
The morning was mostly taken up by walking, venturing out into the great wide world; seeing the sun and the flowers and the birds.
The afternoon was recording the results. A morning’s worth of photographs sorted and filed and admired. Not even the spring rain dampened the smile.
Day two was a blur of rollercoasters and breathless excitement, queueing and flying through the air at inhuman speeds. Day two was screaming and laughing and the queasiness of being thrown around immediately after a meal.
Day two was a glorious catch-up with a theme park friend. Unhealthy food and a healthy dose of adrenaline.
Day three was a day of aches, a day to reminisce about the days when you could power through a whole day and not suffer any consequences. Day three was a day with a neck ache but a mountain of housework to get done regardless.
Day three was inside and grown up and boring but as much needed as the rest.
Day four was a gentle catch-up with a gentle friend. Sipping hot drinks in closed off corners of generic coffee shops. Curled away from more spring rain in the cosy corners of well-loved memories.
Day four was as exciting as day two in all the opposite ways. Heart-filled smiles and love-heavy hugs with a long-adored friend.
Day five was a trip. A day trip to a windswept beach. Cold, with breath rising, too close to winter to be anything but a foolish journey well-enjoyed.
Day six is forgotten. Too much alcohol, too much dancing, too much everything.
A blur of a day in the cool sun, dry mouth and thumping headache in the morning. Photos regretted but loved.
Day six was a faded picture on a dusty shelf. No one to remember it except for a vague sense of enjoyment.
Day seven. The day of rest. The house cleaned, the friends re-acquainted. The cobwebs blown from over-worked brain cells. Dusty corners of stress-filled headaches refreshed.
Cups of tea and gentle Sunday afternoon television.
Day seven is the day before the work week begins again, adventure is over.
Day seven is the reflection of a holiday well-spent.
Tales written from a prompt in just 10 minutes.
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