A rare gem, those mornings where you rise before the rest of the house. The moon is casting a pale light over the sleeping neighbourhood. You sit on the sofa beside the open curtain with just a soft light dusting the words on the page in front of you. The rich scent of coffee lingers around you and the only sound is the rhythmic ticking of the clock.
I am thankful for those slow lazy starts to any day.
By Shari Marshall – 2019