The one thing I can afford to look forward to – about leaving for work before the clock strikes seven – is being able to breathe in the new morning air, and sigh away the worries of yesterday. There is a certain crisp freshness to it that awakens every dull sense of your body, much like the tender touch of a tiny drop of dew giving a sickly green leaf a zest for life.
Yesterday morning, my heart did a little pirouette at the sight of a generous handful of mischievously twinkling stars and one slyly grinning moon shining brightly down on me from above. Together, they worked their magic on me; a sweet balm that healed certain miscasts from the past, took away tomorrow’s sorrows, and promised a Sunday for every day.
But most importantly, it resulted in a clear blue sky later that day – and that, I think we have not had for a very long time now.