The room is black, save for a dim glow of a red light in the corner. There is a shift and the red light informs us it is now 5:30 am and promptly begins to sing. A groan comes out of the dark, a shuffle of fabric and a hand emerges to stifle the noise. It flops around until the singing is silenced The hand grabs at something square next to the clock and there is white light. Eye's glare at the new light, interrupting the darkness, squinting to adjust. It too says that it is 5:30 am. The hand squeezes and the bright light is gone, the hand falls limp. All is still.
"I can do this." whispers a voice and the covers fling back.
Joints crack as the form slowly stands, gingerly stretching it's limbs and walking to a dresser. The mirror reflects a woman's figure as clothes are stripped and replaced. The process is slow and quiet as the woman layers herself in fabric. The bright light is illuminated again as she looks for something in the dresser. There is a rustles from the bed as fabric shifts. The woman turns out the light and looks longingly at the empty side of the bed. She grabs the rest of her things and silently slips out of the bedroom.
The woman laces her shoes and zips her jacket as high as it will go, its fabric brushing her chin. She reaches out and opens the front door. The air is cold and still as she walks, her arms pumping to and fro as she propels herself forward. Street lamps cast a damp yellow light as she walks below them, like checkpoints in the dark morning. Her breath creating puffs of fog as she continues. She comes to an intersection and pauses while she puts her ear-buds in and turns on her music. The light turns in her favor and she jogs across the street, her path well lit for her. Her pace alters in accordance to the music as she snakes around the sidewalks.
The sky has not yet lightened when she breaks back down to a walk. Her music playing a soft tune as she slows. Steam rises from her as she rounds the corner back to her front door. She walks inside, removes her shoes, jacket and ear-buds. Returning them to there proper place in the closet. She catches a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror, beads of sweat are built up on her forehead and she brushes them aside with her shirt sleeve. She stairs intently for a few moments, her eyes linger before moving to the next part of her.
"New year. New me." She says as she turns away and walks into the bathroom.
*****
This POV was an experiment. I like the mystery of it at the beginning but I don't think I could tolerate a full novel written this way. I also think it is very easy to over embellish this writing style and over describe things. Though some might say I didn't embellish enough but I like leaving enough of a description gap for you to use your imagination. What does the woman look like to you? I have only described her as a woman, one that is going for an early morning jog. What color are her shoes? They are only described as having laces. Your imagination filled in the gaps didn't it?
