DELIRIUM AT DAWN

I don’t even really fuck wit mornings like that…but we been coexisting of late.

So I woke up early this morning without provocation. Shuffled to the back door to water the plants. Sun shining but not hot. Opened the fridge. Scanned the eggs, cheese, turkey. French Vanilla creamer.

Decided to go out for breakfast.

I been slacking on my running. Nursing a sore groin and avoiding a necessary trip to Lady Foot.L0cker. Plus school.

So I pulled on some shorts and a whitebeater (as my nephew says. Yeah, his daddy’s a racist). Loosened the laces on my snug kicks. Clipped on some music and hit the door.

Hitting the pavement felt good. As did the light perspiration that ensued shortly thereafter. Ran up on a crumpled dollar on the curb, stooped to scoop it. Must be my lucky day. I rounded the edge of the park, crossed Charles St. and dipped into the bank. My head spun the minute I stopped moving. Stomach empty. Lightheaded. Had a hard time trying to line up the damn columns on the ATM machine, which is a difficult enough task even when I’m not dizzy.

Ducked back out. Deep breath. Unpaused Wycl.ef. Let my feet move me the next few blocks to the new A’rab take out. Crossing another main street, bouncing in place, I glance back, out of habit. This Bawtuhmore, son. That’s what you do.

And I almost lost my balance.

Almost dropped my keys and cash.

I spun completely. Scanned the side street and alley. Nothing. I sighed and dragged myself inside the spot.

“Lemme get a egg, cheese and turkey on whole wheat, pls. And a small French vanilla coffee.”

I wandered over to the door as I waited. Watched the morning pass by. Got my food and walked home, hot coffee and paper bag in hand. I walked a different route. Toward what I know I had seen a few minutes prior. Lightheaded...

A flash of solid oak. And sweat drizzled thereof.

I’d recognize that back anywhere. And that bouquet of locs.

Right??

Sigh.