Word of the day for today May 22 is ***preen***.

I explored a little with this one. Take a look.

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<center>![girl-930136_1280.jpg](https://images.hive.blog/DQmXt7xBfnXok6n8cxYi4mMWLKRgHtGDYCctvUtDuShopKQ/girl-930136_1280.jpg)</center>
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It's almost midnight and she's awake. She always is at this hour. It doesn't matter if she goes to bed late. The thing will wake her up at exactly the same time. It's like an alarm clock. Difference is, there's no sound. 

She gets up and walks to the kitchen. The thing, after waking her, will tell her to head over to that part of the house. There was a time she used to tiptoe. She stopped after she realised that no amount of noise wakes the house at that hour. Maybe the thing is responsible too.

The pot is right where it usually is. She smiles as she opens it. She can't remember how it all started. She was a decent human. She still is to the outside world. Her work is perfect, every single one it, polished, arranged, like a bird when it *preens* it's feathers.

The meat is there. The aroma is already assaulting her nose. She had watched her aunt roast and pepper them. She swallows and fight back tears. They always slip every night when she comes here. Happiness makes her cry all the time.

The meat is already melting in her mouth when the lights come on. She freeze. Between her eyes points the barrel of a gun. She blinks, just as the person behind it pulls the trigger. She screams.

“*Wake up. It's time to prepare for school*,” a distant voice calls out.

She opens her eyes slowly. One then two. Just a dream. She yawns and pushes herself to her elbow.

Her name is Da. She's eight years old. She hates school and to her, today will be a long day.

<center>https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180923/8161d4637d4fe4c81ea0aa136f466fc8.png</center>
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[<sub>image source</sub>](https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-pigtails-baby-smile-hairstyle-930136/)