It was the time when the last vestiges of dark decided to flee on seeing the sanguine rays of the sun; it was the time when the streetlamps were still glowing despite the appearance of the sunrays, and the city that resembled a beast at day, was actually asleep.
The air was fresh, and she took a deep breath as her legs pedalled on. She cycled through the transparent mist, like a free bird gliding across the ocean. She was taken to DreamWorld completely, and the surrealism of it all made her eyes wide.
The clean street was lined with streetlamps, providing their dull orange glow to the day, telling her it was all a dream. And this dream of hers was punctuated by reality as now and again, a few lamps went missing from the oh-so-consistent line.
And in those gaps of reality that seeped through, the sun rays painted the place with warmth even as chilly winds of the late night kept blowing at her. Something told her reality could be nothing like this.
As she entered a narrow alley which wasn’t yet blessed by the warm rays of the sun, she hit the brakes and got down. The rows of houses that adorned the street were enveloped in a thin sheet of dust. A few green plants grew everywhere, and she clasped her tiny hands and cast her sight heavenwards.
“Oh, this place cannot just be real,” she said. “It looks as if I’ve entered a world I’d never visited before.”
And then came the voice from heaven: “This is what early morning feels like, my child.”