Cold. That is what he felt every morning when he woke up on the other side of the bed. He hated that cold, it remained him of the emptiness. An emptiness that throughout the years he had begun to fill again or simply learnt to ignore. He buried his face in the pillow in an attempt to dodge the deafening sound of the alarm clock, but he finally gave up and turned it off. He stretched his arms when he sat up in the mattress with a yawn. He stood up and walked to the big window that offered him one of the best views of the bay. He smiled, breathing in. At least he wasn't feeling incomplete anymore.
The cold water of the shower woke him up completely. The smell of sweat of the previous night disappeared and he enjoyed the feeling of the hard stream of water on his shoulders. He stepped out of the shower and, with the towel around his waist, he walked up to the dressing room. From one of the drawers he took clean underwear and from the wardrobe light blue trousers and a shirt. He put on his clothes and looked at his reflection in the mirror before leaving the room. At least, the bags under his eyes had disappeared.
He went downstairs, to the kitchen, illuminated by the morning sun. It was barely seven in the morning, but heat was already unbearable. Just like a robot, he repeated the routine of every morning. First, he turned on the coffee pot and he took two cups, one smaller than the other. He poured milk into the bigger one to put it in the microwave. While the coffee and the milk were heating up, he took the cereal box and the toaster from the wardrobe. Just as if it was planned, the bread jumped from the toaster at the same time that the microwave stopped.
He set the table for breakfast and took the cups with coffee and milk there. He took a bottle of juice from the fridge and left it on the table before going to the living room. He stood in front of the sound system and looked at the shelves filled with records. It was what took him longer in the morning, choosing the right song to play. After some minutes of hesitation, he took one from the upper shelf. He pressed play and Hit the road Jack started playing all over the house.
He heard some steps in the upper floor and went back to the kitchen. A tap was opened and soon closed again. The steps walked closer to the stairs and went down, not in a rush. That person was not the most morning person of the world. Finally, he arrived to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning, sunshine" he smiled and kissed the sleepy person on the cheek.
