It was early in the morning. No one except Sven was yet awake. The house was dark and he dare not turn on any lights; it was as though if they were flipped on it would signal the day to start and everyone else would wake up. He relished the feeling of being alone in a house full of people.
The sunrise was beginning to creep in through the windows creating dark pools in the corners of the stairs. The kitchen, one of the rooms with the most windows in the house, was barely awake yet. The room was still gray.
Sven found the box of Cheerios in their usual home atop the fridge and poured himself a bowl. There wasn’t any milk, after last night’s late night milk and cookie raid, so he ate the cereal dry. Not as good as with milk but still not bad.
It’d be time for everyone to wake soon so he made his way to the bathroom to shower. It hadn’t taken long at all for life in America to seem normal. The routine was the same every day. Wake before everyone, get ready before everyone, fall asleep on the couch, Harley would wake him and then they walked to school. Rinse and repeat day in and day out.