There’s that feeling when you wake up when you’re not supposed to. The sky still has a musty blue; the blue that hasn’t gotten ready yet. The air is still damp with last night’s adventures. The clock still reads an hour when you still could be asleep and waiting for the day to properly prepare itself. So you rise with foreign aches and an incomplete dream looming above you. Your day starts early because that’s easier than attempting to construct a new world behind closed doors. It’s like you own the world until a voice, a presence flutters into the window. When the hour of your usual arrives, you almost expect a clone of yourself to rise and go about the uninterrupted day as normal. So you stay.
Written: 7/5/16, 5:56am