Monday Mornings


“Beep, beep, beep…”

The early morning garbage truck backing up a dead-end street is the rooster call we never wanted.

“Beep, beep, beep…”

The tone shrill enough and consistent enough to seep deep into your brain and penetrate your dreams.

“Beep, beep, beep…”

I’m up!


I’m up. Something makes sense about the beeping stopping now that there is no way to fall back into the adventure of my dreams.

“Chirp, chirp, chirp…”

It’s not morning without the Blue Jay squawking. A bird who has missed seeing his human and canine throughout the black night. With dawn comes a peaking sun and a wiggly beagle excited to be alive and peeing in the fresh morning air. 

“Drip, drip, drip…”

The hot, green tea doesn’t sip as well as the creamy lattes. Ah, to have a stomach that will process dairy again. The warmth of the tea and the sounds of the city waking up begin the slow but eventual progression towards joining the life beginning to emerge below.

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