Of Cabbages and Kings

March 7, 2007

Morning air

Filed under: Personal, Random musing — Chinmayi @ 4:59 pm

is crisp like a fresh starched white shirt.

You come out of a sleep-filled room and blink helplessly beside an old brown table burnished golden by the dim buttery light which floats in through the window. As you drift back to sleep while standing there and trying to remember whether it was the newspaper or coffee or something else that you came out from your room to get, a rude squack bounces of your eardrums. You turn towards the window (and the sound), wince and move your hand up to shield your eyes against the harsh golden wall that the melting buttery glow has suddenly solidified to. You glare at the pigeon on the flower bed – it has a guilty look about the beak that suggests that it might have had something to do with the rude squack.

You give up trying to figure out exactly why you are awake, and decide that you might as well read the newspaper now. You open the door, and there it is! Submerged in soft warm slightly stale air from the previous night, you are never quite prepared for it. The rush, the flood, the freshness, the life that bursts into you with that first breath of morning air.

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