the night's sleep was broken, broken at three, the morning therefore slept in, it is eight. Get up. make breakfast coffee, go to the bathroom, somehow all at once. The town is quiet, sunday sleepy.
And whilst opening the window to the street, see a jogger pass by outside. A fit maan in old-fashioned running shorts, running past at high speed.
The bells only sound for eight now, and the Bialetti burbles good morning.
It is cool air, refreshing. It will do for a while, later, when the clouds go and the sun shows it will be hot and sticky.
There are the sounds of police radios outside, the streets are being cleared for the pageant, for the big march later on today.
The son was up, he came and gave a hug, a morning embrace
He will have his thirteenth birthday soon, seven years as a teenager to come.
Years that will change him, amid a slow moving timescale in his view, time fleeting by for his parents.
There are further sounds of preparation outside,
the son is preparing the sunday breakfast cake inside.
The cat is probably sleeping
Somewhere.
It is Sunday.
Cool damp summer Sunday.
And whilst opening the window to the street, see a jogger pass by outside. A fit maan in old-fashioned running shorts, running past at high speed.
The bells only sound for eight now, and the Bialetti burbles good morning.
It is cool air, refreshing. It will do for a while, later, when the clouds go and the sun shows it will be hot and sticky.
There are the sounds of police radios outside, the streets are being cleared for the pageant, for the big march later on today.
The son was up, he came and gave a hug, a morning embrace
He will have his thirteenth birthday soon, seven years as a teenager to come.
Years that will change him, amid a slow moving timescale in his view, time fleeting by for his parents.
There are further sounds of preparation outside,
the son is preparing the sunday breakfast cake inside.
The cat is probably sleeping
Somewhere.
It is Sunday.
Cool damp summer Sunday.
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