Bus Stop Portrait #1

He was a morning person. Through and through. Ever since he was a youngster, the moment the sunlight crept into his room, sneaking between the blinds, he would be awake. No matter how much he tried - tossing and turning, throwing the sheets over his head, he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Eventually he just gave up and embraced it. He'd pace through the house, waiting for his brothers and sisters to wake up, so he'd have someone to play with. Some days he'd even beat his parents. So, he'd brew their coffee. Leaning over the pot, making sure not to burn the beans, breathing in the aromas of the deep brown liquid that bubbled below his nose. It wasn't until he was much older that he learned to appreciate the caffeinated beverage, but once his taste buds matured, he was hooked. Every morning he'd have a large mug - not to aid in waking up, but simply for the flavor. No sugar. No cream. He was a purist. Darker the roast, the better.

But today, he wished he had a few more cups of coffee with him. He needed that extra kick of caffeine flowing through his system. The morning was dragging. Barely crawling along. When dawn arrived at the house and the first few rays of sunlight poured in to the bedroom, he immediately hid himself under the covers - something he hadn't done in nearly twenty years. It hurt his eyes, boring deep down to the back of his head, rattling around inside his skull. When the alarm clock started going off, playing Sunny and Cher's "I got You Babe," he wanted to scream. Pick it up and throw it against the wall. Smash it into a million pieces. On a normal day, he would have laid there, almost awake, drifting in and out of consciousness, waiting for the melody to kick in and their duet to begin, bringing a smile to his face.

He could only imagine how he looked to everyone else. It actually made him chuckle. His clothes were probably disheveled, bags under his eyes - he wasn't even sure if his socks matched. The shirt he had on was one he had received as a gift from his mother-in-law and was something he usually wouldn't be caught wearing in public, relegated to odd jobs around the house, but in the haze of getting dressed, was the first thing he pulled out of the closet. Nothing really mattered. All he wanted was the day to be over so he could just crawl back into bed. Unfortunately, it was just beginning.

But then again, it was alright. As he looked down at her, he couldn't help but smile. She was looking back at him, eyes gleaming, new skin still shining and soft.

He was more than willing to lose some sleep for his new daughter.

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