4 AM

A Story by Broken.

Early one morning..

I will not meet sleep tonight. My body tells me I am tired, but my brain says otherwise. I seem
to toss and turn, fighting the day to end.

A dead silent night, only to be comforted by the soft hum of the air conditioners, for even the
crickets have retired to sleep.

Chills. The early morning is cold, quiet, tranquil. Makes even an insomniac relaxed. The frost on
the grass seems to be the frozen clock of shadows to bring the day in. The soft pink light lays
against the grey clouds, ocean meets sand.

Beats of light dig through the trees and manage but a single crack of sunshine, melting
the frozen clock continuing the day. The day that was always there, waiting to be awoken.

A burst of light, triumphant and strong. Welcomes the new day, alarms go off, and birds ruffle their feathers, this is the start. The start of it all. The breeze picks up, the light burns the earth, blinding, a golden apple appears. The pale orange swims around, the birds take flight. Truly the most glorious part.

Given some time, the light hits every part of the earth melting away all corners of yesteraday.