Somewhere, where the show lay heavy on the tree branches. And all animals seek refuge from the chill of early morning. You wake up, your vision still blurry, the remnants of dreams of the night before. You stumbled into your living room, your whole body trembled a little as the cold material of you sleepwear touched your warm skin. You walked over to the smoldering fire place, poked at the embers. Yellow sparks flew into the air. You placed more wood into the fire. They cracked and popped as small flames erupted. You settled down int eh recliner facing the fireplace and waited. Slowly the room began to warm up. Hugging you like grandma when she comes for a visit. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet snow bounced off your roof. Hear the lone wolf howl in the distance. Daydream about the white world outside. Slowly, the white daydream grew darker, as you dose off into sleep.
Cold crispy night, sitting as close to the stove as I can, trying to warm my tropical bum up.