Waking up Sunday morning was not an easy task. The hallway from my room to the staircase was dark, and the only sounds that filled it were the creaks of my footsteps. The challenge a staircase presents in the morning is a good test of my level of awareness. It seems like the simplest tasks transform into the most complicated tests when they are performed in the morning.
After successfully navigating the volunteer house staircase and shuffling into the kitchen, I flipped on the kettle to make some water for tea. Lights that still hung on our decaying Christmas tree and above our windows illuminated the downstairs living area. The east-facing windows displayed a dark street that slowly brightened as the sun crept over the horizon. It seemed as if the landscape and I were waking up at the same pace.
While waiting for the kettle to finishing heating the water, I stood in the quiet kitchen, basking in the tungsten light that filled the room and enjoying the lingering fog left over from my night’s rest. The kettle clicked, I poured the water into my cup, and I watched the tea leaves dance in the steaming water.
Sitting at the table, I flipped open a book I have been taking my sweet time to get through, took a sip of my cup of tea, and enjoyed the stillness of the house.
