From Here On Out

A memory of this morning:
The time is around 4:10AM; why am I awake?
One missed text message. Reply message sent.
Rearrangement of location from the couch to the floor.
Addition of sleeping bag and pillow to the floor situation.
Wide eyed and increasingly restless, I rethink my plans.
Time spent foolishly and shamefully wasted followed.
The time is now around 5:22AM; I almost fall down the dark stairs.
My journal is pulled out of my worn backpack and placed on the desk.
Just after unbinding it, I begin to write a love letter.
If you only knew how many love letters my journals contain!
The hum of a window fan is all that traverses the room to reach my ears.
The pen now takes rest and the journal is closed.
The time is now around 6:02AM; the notion of oatmeal crosses my mind.
I look around, throw a shirt on and grab just my keys.
Slinging my Pentax K-1000 on my back, my road bike and I exit the house.
I pedal away, thinking how I just entered into the world with nothing.
No identity, no currency, no contact; I was naked and felt alive.
In the two hours I spent pedaling, I shot around fifteen photos.
The time is now around 7:53AM; I return home and head for the kitchen.
Two large glasses of water, one piece of pizza and two ice cream sandwiches.
The Fresh Prince held my attention for about an episode and I had to move.
Unlock the door, turnover the ignition, pray I have enough gas to reach the gas station.
Battery replaced in my Canon AE-1 and she was as good as new.
Time spent taking pictures of things I saw but didn’t have film for earlier.
On my way home, I noticed a house on fire and I didn’t know why.
Watching the house burn and the firemen work, the moment was made surreal.
A lady named Laura and I shared conversation for sometime as we stood watching.
She asked me if I was a photographer and I said I was a freelance photojournalist.
Ironically, she then mentioned and asked if I was going to the Canine Carnival.
We continued to talk about rescue dogs and I smiled in my meeting someone new.
The time is now around 10:09AM; I look around at the heroes before my eyes.
I shook her hand, thanked her for her time and return to my task of getting back home.
Left turn signal. Clutch and brake depressed. Car off. Emergency brake on.
Mario was sitting on our porch eating cereal, drinking coffee and listening to music.
Stories about my morning were told with enthusiasm and we both laughed.
Back in the car, we found ourselves at a quiet yard sale on Lancaster.
Garden State was proudly bought for two dollars and home was our destination.
The time is now 12:22PM; Set Your Goals plays as my fan hums along.

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