Early Morning

What a beautiful morning it was at 6am.

I tossed and turned all night, not sure why as sleeping is what I do best. It was a hot night, airless, even with my balcony doors open. I finally gave in and rolled a j and headed to my balcony, as the sun rose. A gentle, cool breeze blew, the day was awakening, light was returning to the world, a pink blush was awash in the sky.

A jogger slipped by in tiny black shorts on his solo quest.

The weekend was over, 3 days till Xmas.

The joint was supposed to make me sleepy, sleep till 11am, another 5 hours. Instead, it sent my brain off thinking and I had my lap-top open and was writing not long after.

The is something peaceful and powerful about mornings. The monster awakes, everything is calm. The shadows slip away, the curtain is drawn, you can feel the life seep back on the morning bird's call.

A strapping Indian boy came out of the flats adjusting his crotch oblivious to me. He was a boxer shorts guy, I could see as his cock flopped around.

A middle aged couple walked passed with back packs chatting away.

A grey cloud blew in taking the sparkle away. A light rain fell, fingers strumming on the tin, not even wet on the ground.

Bike rider boy, with nice legs, in lycra. Skater boy with the back of his briefs exposed. Handsome man in a dark suit, flat stomach, nice bulge. Hot chick in a power suit, low cut, the girls were out. Cute delivery man in camel work pants making his rounds.

How I'd like to lick that, I thought, as I gazed, stoned, at the fine curve of the delivery boy's arse.

I smoked another j and slept until 11, ah the life of the unemployed. Now it is just hot, the delicate newness of the day has been burnt away.

End of the year! Fuck me! Whoosh! I guess I should go Xmas shopping?

Ah! Bah! Humbug! That's how the thought of the busy shops makes me feel.

I thought about Mitchel, he's flying home, at 11, for Xmas. He'll be gone a month.

I got a text from my girlfriend Rachel.

Remember, we are having dinner together tonight in Yarraville.

I didn't remember that? I know I've been hitting the pot a little hard, since I quit the cigarettes, 9 days today, not that it really counts, but I didn't remember anything about dinner.

Sure. What time did we say?

No, you idiot. That's what you say if you are asked.

My girlfriend Rachel has it all, to an outsider looking in. A handsome husband. Beautiful children. Good jobs. But Rachel hangs out at singles bars, saying she is out with me.

Nobody would ask me to verify the story. I think the game is very much apart of it all for her. Rachel says she is bored, with her perfect life. There is boredom in perfection. She needs a thrill, which equates to fucking strange men in hotel rooms... not that I am against that, per say.

I was suddenly glad my life isn't so complicated, while I wondered what the hell I was going to do with the day.