I wake up at six, as is the norm nowadays. Over months I’ve deconstructed my sleeping habits from moonlighting as a night owl to a rooster that’s up early and sports a hairdo. I skip breakfast and have a coffee, smoke a cigarette and undress. Kity’s still sleeping, but I can hear her frowning, telling me to drink more water. So I drink the water, naturally, and proceed to the washing area. It’s a single room - shower, place to do dishes, emergency laundry area, toilet, and pretty much anything else that involves water. I get lost inside for about twenty minutes and write something.
Her sense of humor is a bad mood medicine
And the sad moon’s rising everywhere but here.
I dry off and exit the washing area. Someone should put a sign up. Comic Sans, perhaps, ‘slippery when wet.’ and a 4 cliparts for its uses.
Kity’s up stretching. She brought some sunlight with her from the dead and is playing a soft Nora Jones on the Chinese. I say ‘good morning,’ to her. To which she frowns - “Have you drunk any water today, Ruann?” I nod passionately - too smitten to dehydrate, and too fine a morning not to drink. 💧
r. x. bird
words and photo by @r.x.bird
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