It was those kind of mornings that he would enjoy rising early and venture out of the house to walk amongst the fields.
He had no agenda. No plan. No course to follow.
He'd never wear shoes - the grass was cool beneath his feet, the dew soaking his pajama bottoms.
He'd make sure he'd breath deep, filling his lungs with the mist. Cold as it went down. Tickling his throat and filling his lungs with the taste of ozone.
The less he could see the better. He wouldn't know where he was going. He couldn't.
He liked the idea of not knowing - lost amongst the dense morning fog.
It meant one thing. It'd take him longer to get home.
I think I need to start my mornings with some of these walks to lose the cobwebs in my brain.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written - concise yet impacting.
ieyu, ilys!