Smoke the rabbit out of the hole.

Sleep is elusive early this morning.
What is it about the luxury of being able to sleep in that thwarts sleeping in?

Restless; tossing and turning in hot sheets in the green cast early morning light. Finally tired of sighing with the frustration of it all I get up. A summer chill is in the air and the dense layer of white clouds tinged with grey reflecting off all the greenery of summer give the morning its green hue. Gingerly stepping on feet that don't want to walk just yet.

I stagger to the Krups machine pick it up and fill it with water. It seems heavier then usual and I struggle to hold it upright as I place it on the pad that makes it boil. I dodge the projects that clutter the kitchen. The wash machine is broke and since it is a stackable both are out of the cupboard and in the kitchen. The laundry basket is in the kitchen to remind me to go to the laundry mat, large oil paintings that are drying and dinner dishes. Shit is everywhere, but what can you do?

I grab my last cigarette and head to the porch, out here it is cluttered too. An armchair had to be moved to the porch to get the washer and dryer out. Along with the porch table and chairs and Nicks gardening table, its rather crowded out here and in my mind. I glance fondly at the chair, it looks mighty comfortable to sit in, but move instead to the stoop. I light up and smoke that first lovely cigarette of the day. It's my favorite one.

As a writer and artist I have the right to change the order of things to suit me.

Nick joins me on the stoop and says, "want to go fishing."

That perks me right up and out of restless. Out of aches, pains and general early morning regrets.

Lake Cooper