No creaky joints, yet…
The dramatic orange light that peeked over the horizon announced the arrival of a brand new day. That’s become a bit of a morning ritual for me – rushing to open my wooded blinds in order to greet the new day. Unlike most mornings, the birds chirped cheerfully as if to remind me that I was being lazy. Cheeky little buggers. After thoroughly brushing my teeth, I enjoyed a flask of hot water with lemon juice, sipping slowly so as to not burn my lips. The refreshing taste of lemon-flavoured water first thing in the morning always feels like a small victory that can I chalk up in my my constant pursuit of healthier choices. The warm-up and exercises that follow serve two functions: 1. To shake off whatever sleep may still be clinging onto to me; and 2. To remind me that I haven’t reached the age of creaky joints, yet.
I woke up this morning and as usual, opened my window right away. A strong wind made it harder than usual and I fought violently to keep the curtain in place. The cold air cut through the room, drowning the echo of fluffing pillows and dressing the bed. Walking on cold tiles I entered the bathroom and opened the metal tap. As if dodging bullets, I ran my toothbrush swiftly through the icy water – trying to avoid touching it.
I then stood next to the boiling kettle, to get my hands warm and I was also eager to drink my morning hot chocolate. That first sip was like liquid gold – warm and priceless. I exhaled and as vapour filled the air, I was reminded that winter was here.
Hearing the chirping birds is what woke me up. I peeped through the window and I could feel the sun reflecting through my eyes. I started stretching my body on the bed and I could feel my muscles loosen up and my brain relaxing. Best feeling ever! I got out of bed and I went straight to the kitchen and fixed myself a hot cup of coffee and I opened the door to let the fresh air in. As I drank the coffee I stood by the door and I saw the day’s newspaper laying on the ground. The delivery men must have came early today!
I was in the middle of a great early morning dream when my alarm cut it like an angry film director. I opened my eyes to a room so dark that for a few seconds I felt what it is probably like to be blind. The alarm clock yelled at me as if it was right next to my ear when it was all the way there on top of my computer desk. I keep it there so I don’t wake up, switch it off and go back to sleep since waking up at 5am every day is so hard. The blankets gave me so much warmth that thinking of leaving them was like planning betrayal, after all they had done for me, I was just going to leave them like this. I grabbed them tight around me, a sort of a goodbye hug, I felt their soft warm fabric caress my skin as if begging me to stay, but I just had to go. I kicked them away, jumped out of bed and tiptoed barefoot towards my computer desk. I know my floor has tiles but the way it almost froze my toes made me doubt that,it made me think I was walking on solid ice. My skin dried immediately from the cold. The winter temperature had been lurking all along, waiting for me to abandon my warm and loving bed so it would show me what it is about. I grabbed my phone and sprinted back into the bed. For a moment the blankets didn’t warm me, almost as if punishing me for leaving them so harshly. And then when they finally forgave me and I became so warm I felt sleep creeping my way, I jumped out again and started my day.
I opened the curtains and sunrays invited themselves in. They were as warm as grandma’s soft porridge, and shone brighter than flames of fire.
The clock clicked lazily from the wall to my right.
“It’s seven already!” I said, yawning. “Creative writing deadline!”
Birds chirped over the deathly silence of the cemetery, the recital spot for my poem.
I took a deep breath; burnt, ashy grass all I could smell and…poem sent.
Cup of love
I woke up to the aroma of the smoky and nutty cup of love. I floated to the kitchen as if the steam of it carried me there. Dark as night and sweet as sin, the ceremonious taste of the coffee sent me into a dreamlike feeling before I snapped back to reality and made my way to lounge. The blinds were still pulled down, concealing the mood of Mother Nature. The door opened and the breeze nearly froze my words when I greeted my father. I shivered as the wind held me in its icy grip, every step heavier than the last whilst I made my way to the yard and up to the aviary. The birds chirped as I refilled their bowls with seeds; the sound of their merriment was music to my ears.
Yanked out of sleep
I was yanked out from my sleep by the shouts of my mother, telling me to wake up. I grumbled, yawned and stretched lazily. I murmured good morning whilst my eyes were still drooping. An irritating beam of light from a slit in the curtains invaded my eyes. I made slow, clumsy steps to close it. I splashed icy cold water on my face. The pleasurable shivers crawling on my skin brought me back to the land of the living. Refreshing! I scooped up a generous serving of the thick porridge. Each spoonful of the sweet creaminess disappeared within seconds in my mouth, until I felt satisfied.
I woke up to pleasant weather as I peeped out the window, feeling very gay about the day. Upon closer inspection, I spotted my father pacing the yard, murmuring God knows what. Yikes! I was late for our morning jog. I dashes for the door. My lanky brother’s annoying yells rang in my ears, some yapping about me shoving him. The jog was exhausting. My legs led me to the kitchen, as if they had a mind of their own. I hovered over the table, wafting the delicious smell of breakfast to my nose. It prompted my mouth to salivate, and the grumbling of my stomach. I ate, savouring the roughness of the bread, the smoothness of the margarine, while having an iron grip on the steaming cup in hand.
I leaped out my bed, startled by the sound of shrill, frantic barking. Cool water droplets trickled down my fingers as I wiped away the sheen of mist fogging up the window. Outside, my dog ran around in circles, kicking up clumps of wet sand in protest against an Oreo Jack Russel tearing bin bags across the street. The winter chill felt extra biting today, peppering my skin with goosebumps, making me long for the coziness of my bed. But I followed the scent of fresh-out-the-oven scones instead. As I bit into one, the taste of melted butter and vanilla exploded on my tongue like a firework of moist, crumbly deliciousness.