In the Morning

WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

They should put that line on coffees to go and morning sandwiches in the bakery and breakfast portions in McDonald’s and every digital announcement in the city. It’s 8.03 AM. WAKE UP! Speed limit 30. WAKE UP! Spread happiness. WAKE UP! Susan, will you marry me? WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! Then I might just think: “Oi, perhaps I should wake up.”

Or I could be too busy thinking about my warm, beautiful, soft, comforting bed that I was forced to abandon for the sake of a cold room, a cold house, a cold toilet and cold water out of the tap, and cold clothes and cold shoes and cold outside with cold wet rain and cold wet road and warm, wet, moisty bus where all the cold will turn into smell on people’s faces. I hate standing in the cold waiting for the bus to arrive and I hate standing in the bus waiting for the bus to arrive.

So why don’t I just stay in bed?

Ah, but my phone’s already ringing. The taste of freedom, so close but never reached, lingers on the tongue, resisting the toothpaste.

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