mornings

The lights buzz early in the morning as I wake them up for breakfast. Something about the lovely cold fingering its way out from the walls makes me want to get new air in my lungs or maybe just run a mile or two. Book pages crinkle cheerily along with the warming sausage on the stove.

The clock ticks above me mirroring the seconds counting down in my head to the end of a plank or a set of bicycle crunches. Five four three two one done. Curl up then do it again, the carpet worn in the spot below my feet.

Then out into the woods in boots jacket and scarf but no mittens because then I would overheat. Up the hill over the gravel to classes and coffee drinkers.