The loud cries of the roasters was what made morning, morning. The cold air together with the fogs in your nostrils, filling your lungs and caressing you skin.
David stood high enough so he was above the city. He saw the morning sun raising far in the horizon, the pinkish purple of the sky. He wondered if the sky ever had an end, if the earth went round then why don't people walk on the clouds instead of the ground?
David managed to laugh even in his cold situation. He placed his hand on his zipper gently pulling the zipper till it was fully zipped up.
It was time, time to take his leave, time to experience life out of the house.
He pulled his bag down where Deborah and Christy were chatting.
"Morning mum." David greeted loud enough, but his tone gave him straight away.
Deborah looked at him them at Christy before disappearing upstairs.
