A Day of Rest(lessness)

The sheets felt pleasantly chilled when I awoke. There was a hint of sun outside. I could hear the birds - these city birds never stop. (So much to say.) The children were asleep and I could hear their breathing, which was soft and dreamy and full of the chimes of innocence. The artist's body was turned away from me, in a gentle clump of sleep. I noticed a faint smile on her face and smiled too. I didn't want to get out of bed. Eventually I took a deep breath and pulled myself up and stepped like a passenger from the foot of the bed. I parted the blinds, or at least some of them, to check it was in fact sun. Affirmative. I fumbled for my tracksuit bottoms and trainers. I poured myself a glass of water and drank half of it. I stretched a few times and unlocked the door and went on my run. A man with a cowboy hat was walking past with his dog. He was the person who picked up an old bed of ours that we were throwing out one night. He probably sleeps in it now. Either him, bless him, or his dog. I picked up speed. Well, my rather cumbersome idea of speed. Two fellows were walking on the other side of the road by now with their hoods up. Instead of feeling threatened by their slightly intimidating gait, I chose to think I knew what was going on. They had been to a party the night before and hadn't made it home. Without enough money left to get the bus they were still walking. I did a kind of circle and eventually passed the bench where the poet sometimes sits. By 'poet' I mean the troubled man with the swept back hair who sometimes listens to classical music on an old radio while writing tiny notes. He never says hello but his presence is always appreciated, certainly by the likes of the artist. I then passed the sheltered houses where mostly the elderly stay. Those whom we must always protect. All was still. They, too, perhaps, had had a hoolie last night. As I turned the corner, already out of breath, I looked up again and marvelled at the range of clouds in the sky. I could feel the dampness rise from the ground as I took deeper and deeper breaths. I made it to the shop in the end and when I saw all the newspapers lined up like soldiers on parade I was reminded there was a war.