#Chapter3Hope's POVThe next morning I got awoken from my long, peaceful sleep by the chirping of the choir of the birds that were unknowingly perching outside my window, while freely gliding through the crispy and cold morning air of October. Their song was beautifully composed, every note well-practiced and every voice different from the other, that I couldn't help but let the heart-touching rhythm draw a small smile on my face.Shortly, I threw my grey fluffy blanket aside, and went into the bathroom. Quickly doing my morning routine, I slipped on some new clothes. Before long, I was ready and headed downstairs. When I reached the last step I heard the low, yet sharp, clinking sounds of the utensils coming from the kitchen. Eager to know who it was, I hurried into the kitchen. Once I peeked into the room I saw my mother making pancakes near the stove. Now, this was a sight I wanted to wake up to every day. There's just something about your mother's food. You can ne
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