Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Fiorella Arises

After decades of leaping out of bed at the first screech of an alarm clock, grabbing for the clothes she set out the night before, gobbling down her Shredded Wheat, and rushing out to her car, Fiorella enjoys the long, s-l-o-w awakenings.

Dawn peeks in the window.  Fiorella's dreams fade and her pop-up toaster brain flits freely from topic to topic, solving problems, playing with ideas,  composing clever sentences, like the first paragraph above, which she repeats to herself again and again so she won't forget. After a while and as it will, her body begins to move.  Eventually her arms stretch out, and finally her eyes open, and her body--not her brain--impels her to rise, arise, shine. 

Fiorellla wanders into the bathroom, picks up the pen that always awaits her, and scribbles down the fruit of her sub-conscious.  Her day has begun.

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