It was seven thirty, and the gray sky was so densely concentrated with cloud that it manifested like a ceiling, almost within reach.
In the distance, the rising sun temporarily broke through. A pink-orange hue reached the buildings. I’d never seen that precise color before, and maybe never will again.
I continued on through the cold, damp autumn air, balanced on the blissful line between the full embrace a novel feeling and a the serene awareness of the feeling.
There’s a lifetime ahead, but it’s not even nine yet and this day feels complete.