Morning fiction.

Suddenly, it's like we've woken up in the middle of the winter. It's cold and it's grey, and my bones feel like staying in bed. My mind goes through the workload of the weekend to determine how much time left I have, which is never enough, and I decide it's time to get up and take a shower.

Mind made, it's just a matter of turning to the other side of the bed to find the door to the bathroom. That much I do, still under the blanket. I then fall back asleep and continue the dream I was just having, hoping to find another girl to talk to.

Maybe when I wake up it will feel like summer again.