Right now, there are two types of mornings.

Type number 1 usually starts with opening my eyes and looking onto the right. Seeing her face, fast asleep, her forehead wriggling through the dreamland, her breathing calm and shallow. The air in the room is hot and through the closed doors I can hear people moving outside. I move closer and rub her face. Gently. I hear her breathe, her eyes moving under her eyelids, dreaming. I kiss her slowly on the warm skin, slowly making my way across her cheek, planting my kisses as I go. She smiles even more, opening her eyes, squinting at the light of the morning. “Another five minutes” she says. Her voice is almost inaudiable and I smile and say “I am not waking you up“. She smiles with her eyes closed and wraps herself around me, putting her head onto my shoulder. I kiss her forehead and hold still. Very still. Not wanting to change a thing.

The type number 2 morning usually starts off with keys. And people looking for them. I do not know why they have to shout so much so that I can hear them through a wall, but I guess they own a set of keys which respond to loud voices. Voice is stronger than a fist apparently, because no matter how many times I pound at that wall, they just keep on “looking” for the keys with those shrieks and screams. You`d think somebody lost a kidney or something. After they find the keys, they pack their kids to school. This is also done in a loud voice which cuts through the wall and into my head like knife through butter. By then I am already past the point of no return which leaves me no other choice but to get up, mutter a curse and go to the bathroom. This is usually around 7:30 in the morning. The fog is dancing outside, it`s one of those slow dancers who just won`t leave the floor even when the last chords of the song already vanished from the air.

Type 1 beats type 2 by a millenium.