I'm having one of those mornings. The sort where you feel more tired on waking than you did going to bed the night before.
It's a sunny day in New York City mind - bright, not humid, and cool. The noises of Astoria waking up drift through our living room window on a gentle breeze, not yet strong enough to overcome the sound of the wind in the trees on the street. The buildings are crisply outlined in their shadows by light which has all of the colours of pale peach. Concrete bathes in orange and gold, brick takes on a softer terracotta tone, and the grey of the painted wooden houses is lifted and brightened.
The coffee is ready.
That's so weird, I'm having one of those mornings as well. One of those mornings that is quickly turning into an afternoon of me trying not to fall asleep at my desk.