My Street
My Street
The sharp yapping invades my slumber, waking me abruptly from the sanctuary of a deep sleep. I reluctantly raise a heavy eyelid to admit a splinter of brilliant light. My gaze is drawn toward the light where the sky bleeds red as the sun creeps over the horizon, like a silent explosion. Stuck between dreams and reality, the heavenly white creatures ignite in colours of carmine and crimson as the elongated shadows hide beneath the shops and houses below. At last the comforting feeling of warmth drive my shivers away. At this time of day My Street is quiet. Everyone is sleeping as the last of the cool night breeze takes its final breath and gives way to the burning heat of the new day.
I am again distracted by the yapping, an unfamiliar noise in my street and I become aware of an urgency to find its source. Shopkeepers are arriving now, throwing open their doors to welcome the urgent demands. My neck and back ache after my restless slumber on my concrete bed. I sit up to rub the sleep from my eyes, clearing the smog created by chimneys, waking up to the beauty of my street. Flaming trees sway in the autumn wind, pushing through the asphalt, creating cracks that spread like the branches of the trees into many paths, forming bumps and impurities in the road. Beyond large metallic creatures begin to arrive, some beeping and demanding for others to move out of their way. Impatient animals.
The clutter of feet surprises me, snapping me out of my trance. Reality comes rushing in, along with the flood of civilians shopping, ordering lunch, and hurrying off to work rumbling the ground, buzzing around like a swarm of busy bees. Yet cars zoom on by, leaving an acrid stench of exhaust fumes. The mumble and murmurs steadily increase in volume as people take a pew, waiting for coffee, waiting for service and complaining about minor life problems. A child yells and screams across the street whilst her mum attempts to pull her along. Some people just don’t
The sharp yapping invades my slumber, waking me abruptly from the sanctuary of a deep sleep. I reluctantly raise a heavy eyelid to admit a splinter of brilliant light. My gaze is drawn toward the light where the sky bleeds red as the sun creeps over the horizon, like a silent explosion. Stuck between dreams and reality, the heavenly white creatures ignite in colours of carmine and crimson as the elongated shadows hide beneath the shops and houses below. At last the comforting feeling of warmth drive my shivers away. At this time of day My Street is quiet. Everyone is sleeping as the last of the cool night breeze takes its final breath and gives way to the burning heat of the new day.
I am again distracted by the yapping, an unfamiliar noise in my street and I become aware of an urgency to find its source. Shopkeepers are arriving now, throwing open their doors to welcome the urgent demands. My neck and back ache after my restless slumber on my concrete bed. I sit up to rub the sleep from my eyes, clearing the smog created by chimneys, waking up to the beauty of my street. Flaming trees sway in the autumn wind, pushing through the asphalt, creating cracks that spread like the branches of the trees into many paths, forming bumps and impurities in the road. Beyond large metallic creatures begin to arrive, some beeping and demanding for others to move out of their way. Impatient animals.
The clutter of feet surprises me, snapping me out of my trance. Reality comes rushing in, along with the flood of civilians shopping, ordering lunch, and hurrying off to work rumbling the ground, buzzing around like a swarm of busy bees. Yet cars zoom on by, leaving an acrid stench of exhaust fumes. The mumble and murmurs steadily increase in volume as people take a pew, waiting for coffee, waiting for service and complaining about minor life problems. A child yells and screams across the street whilst her mum attempts to pull her along. Some people just don’t