Yet another early morning, I watch daylight kiss the forehead of the sky as I wrap my jacket tighter around me. September has only begun and summer already acquiesces her warm breath to the darkening night. My mind feels like a mushy mess this morning as I have spent the night awake working the job. Shifts picked up for the “holiday” pay, I celebrated Labor Day with my own labor paid double. There’s pride in being a hard worker, my internal dialogue of self whispers at me with a southern twang that still lingers in the family accent of my upbringing. My family has been northerner’s for three generations and yet remnants of our ridge runner ancestors still linger in our tongue.
I find myself staring at the sky like a backdrop of fabric that is slowly turning from black to hew of pink and blue light. I am eager for the heat of the day to begin. I am eager to be done with the job too, which doesn’t end until 5pm as I have the freelance gig to walk into once this shift is done. I put hands to back, twisting my shoulders to crack their stiffness. I wish I could pull the sky down around me and wrap myself in it, imaging the ozone to be mole hair soft curled around my shoulders. I chuckle at these awakened fantasies of the mind. I think I need some sleep.