A fiery half-disk at the horizon signals the start of creation. What creation? Merely a beginning to an October Monday, but the zip of cars heading to work is in full buzz even before the light has slipped into the edge of the sky.
Sometimes it feels like I could do a thousand things--every single one of them buzzing with the possiblity, yet the hours passes. I'm still lingering with the sun just before it rises, the red highlighting the underbelly of clouds to the east, even if it is only one look in the rearview mirror, another glance through the passegner window to the right, a few words which scatter across the screen.
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