(My entry for Day 16. Should of been up earlier but my internet is playing up on me.)
Song Title: Sunday
Sunday’s were special for him. Every Sunday morning he would get up at exactly 7AM, pour himself some cereal, and watch the Sunday Morning Cartoon Matinee. He didn’t always enjoy the cartoons, but they were part of the ritual.
When his cereal was eaten, he would then cook himself a big fry-up consisting of sausages, eggs, pudding and bacon. He always enjoyed his fry-up, it was part of the ritual.
At noon, the cartoons would end and he would make way down to the local shops where he would buy his Sunday papers and anything else he might need for the day. He didn’t always read the Sunday papers, but it was part of the ritual.
Upon returning from the shops, he would be just in time for the start of the F1 Grand Prix on TV. He didn’t particularly like the F1, but it was ritual.
When that was over, he would sit in his armchair, Sunday papers on his lap, and the TV off. He would sit and he would listen, to the sounds all around him. If the weather was good, he would hear the children playing, laughing and shouting, but if the weather was bad, he would listen and meditate to the sound of the rain bouncing of the window pane. It was ritual.
And that is where is Sunday ritual ended. Once he was finished meditating over the sounds, he would get up from his armchair and proceed to cook for himself his favourite dinner to have on a Sunday, return to his armchair when it was cooked, put on a movie and eat while enjoying a can of beer. (It was part of his Ritual).