It’s just after five in the morning here. It’s cooled down enough where the windows of the car don’t need to be all the way down to provide sufficient fresh air.
It’s just after five in the morning, because that’s the earliest a coffee shop near where I am staying opens. The roads are largely empty, as I am away from the part of the city where delivery trucks criss cross tiny streets and wide avenues on their way to restocking the stores and restaurants.
It’s just after five in the morning, and I can’t sleep. Too many grains of sand have already passed through to the other side of the hourglass on the time left on this trip. Too many questions remain about what awaits me on the other side.
It’s just after five in the morning and I don’t know where I belong. Without a job, home, or person, anchoring me to any specific place, I can be anywhere. For the first time in 15 years, I can choose anywhere. Well, almost anywhere. The doors are closing, but I am not yet seeing the proverbial windows.
It’s just after five in the morning, and the sun is coming up. My troubles still can’t swim, so I stroll down to the water.