Tales From The Ridge

Monday, January 17, 2005

Monday morning

Sickly green headlights punctuate the blue air. Hunched cars growl at each other, their gargoyle drivers glaring out from behind misted windows. I glare back, a gargoyle myself. Not quite awake yet, eyes still sticky. Sleep drapes itself heavily over my shoulders. It runs down my coat in rivulets and dribbles onto my shoes. I'm carrying sleep to work with me. It must be Monday morning.