From My Diary

After another weekend snoozed, yawned and otherwise frittered away, another week begins.

The day started reasonably enough. I woke into a cold room with windows dripping with condensation, straight out of a dream. After being with my grandparents, I was somehow lost in Liverpool in torrential rain, trying to find the right train home, after getting on the wrong bus. As I had breakfast, I notice the sky colouring. A deep red at first, brightening rapidly into a glorious orange.

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Maroon skies ice crusted,
Behind steaming windows
I sip my first coffee.

Before the quiet beauty of this heavenly display, I almost didn’t mind being up so early, almost didn’t mind surrendering the comfortable, safe, sung warmth of my bed. Almost. If it’s a toss up between getting up early and staying in bed, bed will always win.

Red sky in the morning, the rest of the day boring. |It wasn’t boring exactly, but it soon became one of those days. Another one.

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