Mornings

I am fairly nocturnal. Mostly. I sleep the afternoons away, unless my brothers disturb me, nature calls, or my author needs some guidance to write.

Mornings are something else. They are hit and miss. Too early and I won’t function. I can’t cat until about nine-thirty in the morning. But on this morning, I am rather chipper. Sleepy, but chipper.

I bid you good morning.

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