The full Moon is yet to set but I have already awoken. The clear air is chilly, yet all but my hands are surprisingly warm despite the thinness of my top. Japan Tech the label claims, bought at newly opened shop in an area known for its resistance to foreigners.
In less than a day, three since its purchase, I shall be back at the home of this shirt. Probably, it shall be of no use there, for as we have just entered Winter, they are at the converse of a beginning Summer.
Cars are already passing noisily as I stand here at the bus stop under the humming street lights, having stealthily walked out from the house. B and Alex, wife and son, are still in the dark bed.
He woke up crying last night, claiming a nightmare, obviously reluctant to let me go, clinging tightly as I attempted to resettle him. Eventually I brought him back to our bed.
Yet as I gently closed the door behind me he still slept. I was spared the trauma of a farewell.
This bus should be heated, a refuge from the cold morning outside. It is not. Early morning departures once thrilled me.
My parents would shake me awake, before we set out along the dark streets of Melbourne for the barely two hour drive to the beach side towns of the Bellarine. How much excitement derived as a young child from what would be a now inconsequential drive.
Older now, I would prefer to sleep in.
Many others join me on the first bus of the day. The city begins early.