Morning Ritual;Autumn

Outside the trees are called by the Autumn’s breeze. The door isn’t perfectly shut as the leaves seep through the uneven cracks. The whistling tune from Nature’s broken karaoke machine finds its way under the door. Slowly the shadows become dimmer as the morning sun sets in and the birds begin to chirp as the crickets causes a ruckus enough to wake the subconscious mind from sleeping internally. The couch as always hard as a stone bruising my arms and legs as I flail finding rest, but consistently remains courteous as my only true companion who knows me and my heart, becoming a good friend. The bells chime, the cars honk, the sounds of the people marching to and from their next destination. As I step outside with my messy hair, bad breath, blurry vision, I take a glance and the air greets me, another daybreak awaits.