The cell phone vibrates me awake. I reach for it, hold the bright screen to my squinting face, and set it for thirty minutes later. I hate mornings.
I-don't-know-how-many minutes later, I open my eyes to see the grey out my window. My eyes shut with the sudden burst of light forcibly pouring inside my eyes. Still, I took the blanket and covered myself like a snail inside its shell.
The cell phone again. I tried to turn it off but my arm kept on reaching the wrong place so I opened one side of the blanket and pinpointed its correct location. I should get up. Is what I have been thinking for the past hour or maybe more.
I actually like cloudy days. They are warm, hot coffee. They are staring into grey, feeling soothed by it, letting it cover you like a blanket of introspection. Your whole world is what is right in front of you because everything else is consumed by fog. A veil over the world.
