Daily Prompt: Privacy
One hand is spread while another is on his eyes, in want of privacy from lights.
His nose, short and compressed a little, is breathing heavily–he has cough and cold.
One leg is spread touching the side round pillow kept at his feel–it was put there–
Removed from his side; another is fold up at knee; he has captured his lips with jaws.
I am looking at him, invading his privacy by removing the net–
That looks like a netted lid kept over the food and putting the side pillow at his leg,–
As he is sleeping on his back in the said positioned.
My cell phone buzz, the ringtone was tuned to vibration and was put down by my side;
The soft ripple of vibration on the bed remove the hand over the eye and he realized–
(His) privacy has been invaded…
He look at me with drowsy eyes before breaking into toothless innocent smile of him–
After he shake of his drowsiness of siesta by stretching his little hands and legs straight.
I turn the cell phone off and throw it at another side of the bed before taking him up.
Me and my few months old nephew, now, need all the silence, all the privacy of the world…