Waking up on a Sunday morning in New York is unlike anywhere else. It's peaceful. Yes many places are peaceful, but unlike New York, those places are peaceful more often than not.
Venetian blinds are a usual sight so waking brings into a room lines of light and dark. It's only knowing where that comes from you get up, pull the cord and change to darkness and back to bed. Now an hour later you wake as dawn approaches and quietly, as quiet as the morning, you brush your teeth, get dressed and go out.
Coffee is waiting at a small local diner. The morning is still. The clatter of dishes from behind the counter disturbs your morning calm. You are sitting by the window watching. An old man with his dog whimpers along. He has a scruffy tweed beard. His old dog is also black and white. Yes you think they do look alike. He notices you looking at him in the window and offers a smile. You in turn barely offer one back as you catch your reflection in the window.
You are alone. In the reflection you notice others walk into the diner. Couples comes in whispering, sitting down holding hands. People also come in alone, but with the Sunday morning paper for company and still other singles come in, order and leave. They see you and know you're alone. They think you're alone and surely lonely.
As you sit you notice the morning is changing. The shadows move from one side of the street to the other and suddenly your breakfast is before you, juice , a cheese omelet and an onion bagel. You already had a hot cup of coffee and now you hear, hey honey, how bout' another cup. Nodding yes, she pours and then you remember last night.
Last night you promised yourself this was going to be your last Sunday morning in New York.
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