Morose

Chapter Four

When I open my eyes, it's still dark. There aren't any sun rays peeking through my window curtains. I roll over from one side of my bed to the other and reach out for my phone to check the time: 4:12 am. My body isn't a huge fan of sleep. I flop onto my stomach and shut my eyes tightly, trying to will myself back to sleep but I can feel my legs getting restless with every minute I spend laying here. My brain isn't turning back off. I grab my phone again and check the weather: it's going to be a sunny and warm 90 degree day.

"Hey Siri," I say into my phone.

It lights up with the words, What can I help you with?

"What time does the sun rise?"

Sunrise today will be at 6:27 am.

I drag myself out of bed and turn on all the lights in the room. Since I'm wide awake, I might as well do something nice for myself. I decide I'm going to watch the sunrise on the beach.

I pull my covers over to one side of the bed and sit up, criss-cross applesauce, just long enough to rub my eyes for a bit. Then I drag my feet to the bathroom.

I brush my teeth and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I'm still alive.

Inhale. Exhale.

My hair is still in waves from the day before and the messy, beach hair look is perfect for today. I throw on some tiny grey shorts and a baggy blue and white tie-dye shirt over my bathing suit. Then I grab an unopened bottle of wine from my fridge and throw it in a bag along with two towels and a bag of chips. I also pack a romance book I've read before but if I don't get too drunk, it'd be relaxing to read again at the beach.

There's a mirror next to my front door and as I grab my keys from the ceramic bowl below it, I take another look at myself.

I am not happy.

I force myself to put on a smile - just to see how it looks on me - but it's so fake it's depressing to look at.

I suddenly feel frustrated. I sling my bag over my shoulder and slam the door on my way out.

I go over some train tracks and make a right. I wish I'd gotten to see the train pass by but I know it doesn't usually come through until after 7 am. I hope I catch it after the sunrise.

I take the scenic route to the beach. Driving along the water, it's a struggle to keep my focus on the road in front of me when there's peaceful waves to my left. On my right, I pass the funeral home where everyone got together for James.

I want to shut my eyes but I'm driving. I look straight ahead at the winding road. Palm trees with bent trunks tower above me, casting creepy shadows through the streetlights onto the road.

I check the time again. 5:18 am. I'm way too early to get to the beach. My stomach rumbles. I realized I didn't eat anything before I left the house. I figure I could grab some coffee and breakfast at a 24-hour diner off the main road and still make it to the beach in time to watch the sunrise. I'm beginning to feel excited about my lone adventure. This is good for me.

There aren't many cars in the dark parking lot so I'm not surprised when I walk in to see only two tables with any customers. A lone elderly man at one table and a group of teenagers sit at another sharing pancakes.

I suddenly feel a little anxious being at a restaurant by myself in the middle of the night. However, I don't spend too much time in my head before the hostess leads me to a table and asks my drink order.

"Just coffee, please." I say shyly.

As I browse the menu, I remember how much more I like local eateries and shops instead of chains. It all still looks good, but I always get a much homier vibe at mom-and-pop shops.