The blue door swings shut with a force so violent it shakes the entire building. Four stories up the vibrations jar me from my comfortable dreams.
My eyes blink away the sleep as I roll over and stretch my legs out from the ball that I've folded them into. They stretch past the end of the comforter and keep going until the the mattress comes to the middle of my shins. I yawn and listen to the traffic outside my window, then check the time on a watch. It's only a face, it has lost the wristband that makes it useful during the day, but this morning the glaring green light says 6:45.
The legs slink back up, slowly until the toes reside completely on the mattress. The comforter is allowed to fall where it may. My back bends to protect my legs and my head gets tucked back under the pillow, where it has been for the past four hours.
The blue door slams. The building shakes.
the watch says 7:13
This time the legs come undone only long enough to scratch a bite left from a mosquito that took advantage of the open window.
A new sounds wakes me. A familiar sound that pulls me from my dreams of beds of pickup trucks, gravel roads and fishing poles. It's a raw scratchy sound that comes quickly before fading back into the nothing it came from, but then it comes again, and again.
By the fourth time I recognize the noise.... Just Beat it... beat it... no one wants to be defeated...showing how funky and strong is your fight...it doesn't matter...
Bom Dia Hugo. Thank you for the morning serenade.