The early morning, the beggining of a new day
Are you mad? Is there anything wrong? No reason to answer why you are up first thing for the first time, at the crack of dawn?
Why 'no' he replies, no reason, no explanation why he is up first thing for the first time at the crack of dawn.
It is the 'early bird, who catches the worm' they say as he open the curtains, to see the light of a bright new day.
Upon the houses he will gaze but to see no cars, no birds, no people, no existance, this slightly saddens him. But he still gazes out into the new world, that he has woken up to, the new world that he has embraced.
He takes a leap outside the front door of his quiet home and takes to the streets in a purposeful roam. The people stop and stare to look at this soul, so merry and nonchalant, through the streets he will stroll. They peep through their curtains whisper and wonder, what is this boy doing up at this hour? They mumble and grumble then go back to bed.
But he still smiles at the shop-keeper, gets his milk and bread and leaves, whistling a chirpy little tune, waltzing down the empty desolate streets. He skips slightly to the rhythm and sounds in his head, not a thought crosses his mind to go back to bed.
Then and elderly man ventures outdoors to pick up his pint of milk and paper on his front door-step. He looks at the paper and grumbles at the bad news. He looks off into the distance, deep in thought.
And then he sees him that young boy, skipping merrily down the road further and further, fading into the bright light of that warm embracing sun.