Don't touch me [HIATUS]

Tuesday 12th May 2015

It's 5:04 in the morning.

I step into my room slowly, the the scent of lemons still lingering on the four plain walls. The curtains were still open but I was too tired to do anything about it and so fell backward onto my bed. I scanned the room before settling my gaze on the window. The white window frame set the horizon, through which dawn was only just breaking, perfectly, as if it were a picture frame. A painting on a dull blue canvas with candyfloss clouds adorning the edges that got brighter and more vibrant by each second. A silent timer to the world to move, to function. I had a clear view of this image, without the distraction of houses and ever-bright cities to block the way for now.

It was refreshing.

It was clean.

It was pure.

And it was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes to sleep.