It begins like this:
The alarm rudely drags me back to wakefulness. 4:00 am comes all too quickly, even when you're looking forward to getting up. Quietly, I slip out of bed and pad across the room to turn it off. A lump stirs under the covers, and the comforter slips back to reveal a black head, one eye opened balefully. She doesn't lift her head from the pillow.
"Time to get up, Soup Hound," I yawn. "It's a new day."
A blogger's duck hunt, here.