Early Morning
by Lizzie Riley '16
I wake to thick darkness
met only by the strong smell of coffee
light from the gas station down the street seeps into my vision
my headlights are the only illumination on the road until I reach the first stop
the glow of the traffic light on the dark pavement seems warm against the cool morning air
empty lanes merge to empty highway
this morning I am grateful for the lack of trees on the side of the expressway
as I watch the world wake up
a cotton candy sky over thin power lines
light hues of blue and pink that I could only imagine being painted in a Wes Anderson
a fleet of school buses lighting up a narrow street
an old pickup truck pulling into an older barn
a light blue factory lined with vast windows
bare trees illuminated in orange as the sun rises higher
with blue skies in front of me and yellow fog behind me
I keep driving
met only by the strong smell of coffee
light from the gas station down the street seeps into my vision
my headlights are the only illumination on the road until I reach the first stop
the glow of the traffic light on the dark pavement seems warm against the cool morning air
empty lanes merge to empty highway
this morning I am grateful for the lack of trees on the side of the expressway
as I watch the world wake up
a cotton candy sky over thin power lines
light hues of blue and pink that I could only imagine being painted in a Wes Anderson
a fleet of school buses lighting up a narrow street
an old pickup truck pulling into an older barn
a light blue factory lined with vast windows
bare trees illuminated in orange as the sun rises higher
with blue skies in front of me and yellow fog behind me
I keep driving
