Morning

Morning. 


Sitting in front of my computer. Writing. Steaming hot coffee waiting. Intermittently savored. 


Muffled sounds coming from the kitchen. Gregory making his breakfast. The sound of keys clicking. The hum of a vacuum cleaner works its way past the unit entry door. Housekeeping. Coffee. Writing. 


Ding, dong, ding, dong. Quarter past announced by Helen's grandmother's clock in the guest room. Toast being spread with butter. Milk being poured. His throat cleared. A chair scraping the floor boards. Coffee. Writing. 


Thinking. Proof reading. Saving. Publishing. Good morning. Another day to celebrate life.