The cold mystic air of the early morning has made its way through the broken window and into my room. It is another summer day, when you stay up all night long waiting to witness the start of the next day. Another early breaking dusk, and you are the only ear-witness for the first skulking little birds that sing the beginning of another day and the end of a short summer night, the first morning fresh and wet breath that chills your body and frosts your lungs.
Soon, the singing is tuned louder and louder, the dusk into faint rays of light and the sleeping town starts to awake. The echoed engines noise crossing the main road of the town is getting louder, the streets are no longer deserted, I start to hear some fading smiles and greetings, and I hear people opening their little shops and small businesses.
Faint rays are turning into strong twilight that have made some lonely clouds look clearer and the blue open sky more transparent. Suddenly, I lose my interest, I sit to write what I thought to be a good introduction for another morning post.But, the importance of the activity has to mitigate when I felt tired. Tired from my long night of insomnia and lack of sleep.