A Note to the Reader
The first thing I do when I open my eyes in the morning is turn off the alarm. Then I hold a small negotiation between the wish to sleep a little longer than the alarm allows and the time I'm due somewhere. I've almost never won that negotiation. On the bus, looking out the window, everyone is heading somewhere with the same expression. The faces reflected in the windows all going the same way are, every one of them, still half asleep. Seeing that, I feel a little less alone. Today I bought a coffee at the café in front of my building. Usually I buy it near the office, and this one tastes a little different. The price is the same, but somehow today I wanted to drink it a little more slowly. None of this is a remarkable morning, but when I think that somewhere someone is starting a day much like mine, that is enough.
On the morning bus, I once saw not the scenery outside but my own face in the glass. For a moment I couldn't tell if it was me or someone else. Meanwhile the bus passed the stop.