Morning WalkA Story by Kat BlairReader taking an early morning walk...
The air smells like earth and rain. Cold and damp, it slithers through the gaps in your clothing, finding its way to your warm skin and sinking into your bones. You can't help but shiver.
Sunlight is falling gently from the sky, rather floating, down through the dewy mists. This early light is more silvery than any other. Where dusk's illumination is fiery and deep, dawns is pale and noninvasive. At least for now. Your feet find their way along the sidewalk, down the quiet, familiar street. There is no birdsong at this hour, at least not here. Or perhaps it's too cold for birds. No, the only sound is your whisper-like breathing, and the rhythmic echo of your footsteps, one after the other against the frozen spring pavement. The only voices are your thoughts, singing long-ago songs in the back reaches of your mind. Replaying over and over that unforgettable melody whose name you can't seem to remember. Telling you stories of what this arising day might bring. The sky above you turns a lighter, brighter blue. The sun itself is more distinct than before, as you find your eyes adjusting to its ever expanding illumination. You've made it to the end of your quiet back road. You hear distant cars as the world awakes. Taking one last look back at the simple, silently comforting houses you are leaving behind, you turn the corner... and disappear with the dawn.
© 2014 Kat BlairAuthor's Note
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