(My first opening-my-eyesview)
The breeze felt cool on my arms peeking from under the light coverlet. My window is a double door opening onto the street with a yellow and blue flowered curtain. I’m in the snore room more so I could read without disturbing Rick than his disturbing me.
The garbage men can be heard chatting as they slam down the empty plastic bins. Today they are taking the paper, plastic bottles and cans: the latter rattle as they hit the lip of the truck.
From one of the bakeries in the neighborhood or maybe any or all of the five the yeasty smell of baking bread tickles my nose.
I can hear muffled voices from down the street where the merchants are setting up their stands for the marché.
I roll over and enjoy the bird calling to a friend, my eyes still shut. I don't have to start the day yet.