The Morning.
I love the morning.
Early in the morning hours. Hours that most may still call, The Night.
The routine.
The quiet calm stillness of life. Seemingly no movement. The cold Void of Space reaching out towards the absolute just above you. . . and for all layman measurements:
the planet itself is in a slumber.
The early morning coffee.
The first sniff of the cup after pouring a freshly brewed French Press.
The first sip.
Nothing can recreate these moments.
Nothing can imitate it.
And just like that, within hours, that moment is gone. Life returns. The Star blazes. And the humans that share this realm all begin their pointless movements.