No ratings.
3rd in a series of morning pages that hopes to find it's book-form one day. |
Today will wrap up Labor day weekend, it is Monday and everyone gets to sleep in. No meter maids to slip into our dreams and tow our cars away, no stacks of files to come collapsing down on our heads as soon as our eyes lids part. Being a city dweller there are a couple of things that one may come to expect. Parking is always going to be harrowing and no matter how early you rise, somebody has already beat you to the morning. Holidays, heat waves and snowstorms seem to be the exceptions. It is sunny today and in our little port fall seems to come a little earlier to us than most so the instance of warm air is a welcome comfort. As I step out of the building I expect to be swept up immediately by the busy bus riders, sleepy walkers maybe even have a near collision with a hurried cab rearing my corner. Still half asleep and having forgotten what day it is, I’m a bit shocked to find that 9am renders little activity. My busy little corner is on holiday too. It doesn’t appear to be stretching out reclining in the sun taking a welcome repose on it’s day off though. Instead there is a bleakness in the air, I think it is lonely. The bus stop is vacant, not even the usual drunk keeping temporary residence within it’s shelter. The street is empty save for a few tiny tornadoes taking up dust from the gutters, not even big enough funnels to bring wreckage upon a mouses home, and the coffee shop, our little bloodline in this city, is vacuous. Nobody seems to need their little morning boost today, nobody but my corner. Since there are no people to be watched and invariably written about, I have a new job for the morning. I will sit on the rusty park style bench, drink my coffee and keep the little corner company until the city wakes up. |