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Friday Morning
My alarm jolts me out of my dark, dreamy sleep. Without opening my eyes, I roll over and turn it off. I open the blinds, and the bright white of the morning pierces my eyes like a spear. Once my eyes adjust, I head downstairs. My dad is in the kitchen making something. I go outside and breathe in the air. The morning smells like dew on freshly cut grass. I see a lady across the street coming back from a walk. Outside is crisp and quickly turns my cheeks pink. After a few minutes, the sweet smell of my dad’s waffles draws me back inside. “Have some breakfast,” my dad says. I sit across from him and take a plate full of steamy waffles. As we eat, he makes conversation about yesterday's chemistry test. A cold, wet nose nudges my left hand. I mindlessly pet my dog as I finish eating. Her fur is warm like a child that just woke from a nap. I clean my dishes and get ready for another day of school.
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