I prop myself up in my bed to study the morning. The day had begun secretively — no garish orange sun to announce its arrival — only a pale gray sky as somber as the sea. Its subtle light flows softly through the window and onto my bed. This is the color of dreams and mists and thick forests. The air is very still……as if it is waiting. The light holds itself steady, constant. Without the glaring sun to force it onward it will remain like the sky in a mirror — reflective and pale. I ponder the possibilities of such a day.

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