the light is still mellow, warm and tinted, not yet fully awake. morning has not truly arrived and the streets are still silent, awash in slumber. the house is bathed in a warm, yellow tinge and I sit on the bed, still warm from recent sleep. I like this time a lot, it feels like an extra couple of hours to my day, mine to do with as I wish. fajr is prayed, and there are no other pressing matters to attend do, and the time for work, for real life, is still two hours away. I can have breakfast in bed, I can watch some episodes of house, read my novel, look through photos..
as a child, I never managed to sleep in on weekends, unlike my parents. so I would sit in bed and read, or watch tv. even then, I loved this extra time to myself, always saw it as my secret!
slowwly, the light gets brighter, whiter, the noise outside the window increases, and the clock tells me to get ready for work.. morning has indeed broken, and reality begins!