A bit of morning
The alarm clock (my beloved cell phone), hasn't said anything yet. It's 6.18 am. I turn it off and get up to assist Bruno in one of his nightmares. The fourth one tonight. He gives me a soft moan while i try to put his soother in, but he starts coughing. I manage to refrain myself from kissing him again, as i feel my body shiver with the flu. I'd like to say i then jump in the shower, but i can hardly walk without bumping into a couple of doors.

Long sleepless nights, long wakeless days. The coffee is ready by the time i come out of the bathroom, with new shivers and a pair of jeans on their last day of wearing before wash. They feel soft and knowing. I pour myself a glass of orange juice and then some coffee. A muffin. I manage to fill up the washing machine and boil Bruno's water for his upcoming breakfast. 6.46 am.

I wear a grey cache-coeur over my summery top. The weather is nuts enough to give me the flu in forty-eight hours, prevention meassures are in order. I walk down to the bus station not feeling the concrete under my black embroidered ballerinas. I don't look at the buildings, i wouldn't see them anyway. The driver is breezy and seems happy as he opens the bus door and greets his morning passengers.

I try to avoid the air conditioned spots but there's no hiding from this violent, steady, noisy wind. I'm about to close my eyes but suddenly i realize i'm on the wrong bus, the one that takes forever to get to the same destination, stubbornly peaking into every little town in the winding road. I slowly disentangle the earphones on my red mp3 player. 7.11 am. Good morning, in a bit.