Shortform
Why I Love Mornings
It’s nearly eight a.m., and this is the first thing I’ve written. It’s been an unusual morning. I slept in, then had to go next door to take care of my sister’s cats and houseplants.
Normally, I get up at five. My coffee maker has a timer, and it starts brewing at 4:45. When the coffee maker beeps, I crawl out of bed, turn the heat up in my cabin, pour a cup of coffee, and sit at my computer. I work on my novel first, then open Medium.
I love the quiet. At five a.m., the rest of the world doesn’t even exist yet. It’s just me and the cats, coffee and words. I think better at five a.m. The light is kinder.
The first hour of the day is the hour of hope.
