All the windows are open and the door is open too, the first light and the first birdsong are moving through the bedroom and the flat with ease and comfort. It is all rough and pleasant. The only unpleasant thing is the bathroom that is one floor down, but you cannot have every luxury.
A stream of consciousness in the form of wild thoughts is the accompaniment to awakening in this atmosphere, it is great luck to be here. There is the sound of the early birds, and the knowlledge that there will be the buzzing of bees later on.
Downstairs, make breakfast, take it upstairs again. It being Sunday, there is not so much news on the computer, apparently not so much is happening. It is not possible, the world goes on turning regardless, and people do not stop getting up to mischief just because it is Sunday.
Stay lying on the made bed.
It is Sunday.
A day made of quiet and rest for those who can afford it and do not have the greediness to forbid it.
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