I parted the curtains in one swift, practiced movement. A wave of harsh noon sunlight gushed in and bathed the room with its golden glow. Through squinting eyes I fumbled open my window lock with one hand and pushed it open with the other.
I leant my head outwards and inhaled deeply.
Fresh oxygen evicted the stale air in my lungs. A crisp coldness filled my chest, a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the beaming sun on my face. The outside air tasted strongly of mown grass and left an aftertaste when I exhaled.
Excited birds chirped brightly, taking turns to proclaim the start of a new season. A breath of wind danced through the garden, tickling leaves as it went, causing them to rustle in applause. Even the trunks of larger trees swayed in time to this backyard symphony.
In the distance, the faint mutterings of civilisation could be heard.
And that is why I had pancakes for breakfast.
