Eat, sleep, work, repeat.
That’s how my mornings feel, sometimes.
The alarm goes off, and I struggle to believe that it really is 6 o’clock in the morning because of the smug, thick blackness pressed to my bedroom windows.
I’m an ‘early-riser’, a ‘before the dawn’er. I open my eyes long before the sun reaches out and cradles the sky with its sunbeam fingertips, before the rays slowly change the blackness to grey, to navy, to streaks of periwinkle and coral, finally settling on a defiant September sheet of cold, crisp cloud.
It’s too early for breakfast, it’s always too early for breakfast. Toothpaste, warpaint, clothes, placating an impatient taxi driver, greeting a familiar face at the train station, “the usual”, and I’m on the train, applying the lipstick I didn’t have time to finish before leaving the house.
There’s a lot of us, the early-risers. We have our routines. A radio station, a kiss, a cup of tea.
Regardless, they are still routine to the individual. It’s no wonder then, that we occasionally find ourselves yearning for a little break from the norm, for a little escapism.
Continue reading “Long Live The Storytellers”