The Perfect Hour.

This morning I was just not feeling it.

I guess you could say it was a severe case of the Monday's where all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and nap. But alas, adulthood and the joys that come along with it. I got up, tried to spruce myself up the best I could whilst using the least amount of effort and set off to work. 

My day luckily ended by about 3:30 and within a millisecond I was back in my bed, ignoring all the homework I had piling up on my radiator (major fire would think imminent death would be enough to make me do it...but no). After flipping through a few Youtube videos I was out like a light, a happy little afternoon snooze. Nothing Better.

I woke up at the perfect hour.

You know the one I'm talking about, right when the sun is setting. The breeze picks up and you have to hug your jacket a little tighter, your eyes begin to droop as you await your second wind, everybody rushes by you on the way home to be with there families at the dinner table, nobody has any cares because the hard day of work is over. I love it.

Since as far back as I can remember it was my favourite hour. When I was younger I lived on a Cul-De-Sac full of children. Everyday after school we would all emerge from our respected houses and ride our bikes, play and run in the sun for hours. Eventually, the sun would begin to fall and the world would get darker causing the large street lamp that was watching over us all to illuminate and signal that it was time to go home. As we waved and ran toward our respected houses, tired from play and craving our mothers home cooked meal, I was the happiest I had been all day. 

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