In a trade-off between sleep and punctuality, I’d always choose the latter. But there is a fine line for how much sleep I’m willing to give up. So every morning, I’d pull out of my driveway before sunrise, and makes it to work just briefly before the factory bell sounds.
Before the red of the sun, faintly, the red of the stop signs, the red of the traffic light, and the red of little icons on the speed dial all glow in the greyness of dawn. There are very few people out at this hour. This makes the reds pretty insignificant.
The beats of the turn-signals turned my car through the gentle bends; winding suburbian streets soon turned into laser-straight country road. 70-90-100 I went. The engine rev’d like an angry bull as it charged through the fjord between walls of fog. Two worlds crossed into one; the North-bound Highway 6 seemed like a stair-case to heaven.
I’d rolled down the windows, and pop-on the radio for some morning tunes. My body came alive to the oxygen-rich air and the oomphs of the bass stereo. The sky became bluer, brighter. Over the corn fields, the sun appears in bright orange. Two skies, one above, one in my mind. This is my way to embrace freedom, before the crisp morning air turn into crisp sounds of metals clashing. I press down on the acceleration pedal, as if I were escaping the infinite shadow cast from the horizonal sun.
Before the red of the sun, faintly, the red of the stop signs, the red of the traffic light, and the red of little icons on the speed dial all glow in the greyness of dawn. There are very few people out at this hour. This makes the reds pretty insignificant.
The beats of the turn-signals turned my car through the gentle bends; winding suburbian streets soon turned into laser-straight country road. 70-90-100 I went. The engine rev’d like an angry bull as it charged through the fjord between walls of fog. Two worlds crossed into one; the North-bound Highway 6 seemed like a stair-case to heaven.
I’d rolled down the windows, and pop-on the radio for some morning tunes. My body came alive to the oxygen-rich air and the oomphs of the bass stereo. The sky became bluer, brighter. Over the corn fields, the sun appears in bright orange. Two skies, one above, one in my mind. This is my way to embrace freedom, before the crisp morning air turn into crisp sounds of metals clashing. I press down on the acceleration pedal, as if I were escaping the infinite shadow cast from the horizonal sun.
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