Knees to my chest, a cup of delicious aromatic coffee cradled in my hands, I look up the sky and take in the beauty of clear skies dotted with just about a thousand stars, the Milky Way adding charm, if not magic, in the blackness of the sky, intermittent flashes of lightning behind dark gray clouds hovering over the Pacific Ocean, beyond the horizon, beyond the tops of mango trees, and smile to myself.

It’s going to be a beautiful day I can tell.

I close my eyes and take in the sounds of an early provincial morning, the crows of roosters all around, blending with the feeble yet distinguishable songs of the cicadas, remind me why I like the early morning hours in the province.

Below me, life begins to stir, as lights start to turn on one by one in the neighbors’ huts. I smile again. I see one of my neighbors take out a basket of laundry and I am reminded that in a few hours, I will be bold enough to turn on the machine and spin the last batch of laundry that I left sitting in the abundance of water mixed with fabric conditioner. I love doing laundry. It’s one of my favorite things in the world – V’s laundry, one used to fondly say.

Maybe later today I will find it in me to walk around the town and take photos. Even of just the church – something I have been meaning to do if only I have not been going home in the early mornings, the sun up, bright and shining, with barely a wink of sleep.

Things are getting better and life is beautiful. Even if just right in this moment, with my eyes closed, drowning in the music of fond childhood memories.

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