It was a gloriously sunny day, as I drove down from the country. The road stretched out in front of me, sweeping over the hills and out of sight. The sun shone in through the sunroof, warming my forehead, neck and shoulders. I shivered with its warmth on my bare skin; goosebumps give me a thrill, bring my skin alive.
Back to the grind, I thought, such is my grind now a days. Ha, ha! I wondered what all the office workers were doing? As Labelle's new cd played, Back To Now. I laughed, as I swept into the right lane and overtook a mosey-haired woman and her child making long work of a short drive. She gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and stared, unblinkingly, a head. The kid looked at me dumbly from the back seat, like a nodding-head dog, which should have been on the back shelf.
Monday morning. Gotta luv em, I thought.
The paddocks were the colour of wheat. The sky the colour of sapphires. The day was shiny, the world looked new, fresh and inviting, sparkling under the midday sun.
What was I going to do for the day? Anything I wanted, worlds and oysters and all of that. I'm as free as a bird, I suddenly thought. I resisted the urge to tweet, although I wanted to.
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