I awoke from the top bunk. Always the first of many, as if my body were hardwired to function at 6 am, eternally. Both a burden and a blessing, I always awoke to a dimly lit world. A world that, if only for a moment, belonged to me. 

The cold metal ladder awaits my descent, only after removing the plush blue blanket from my then small frame. Motioning carefully and quietly, so as not to wake my older brother sleeping beneath me, I propel downward (real spy-like) onto the beige carpeted floor of our tiny, hardly one bedroom, bedroom. Now, what compels a 7-year old cauliflower-looking rascal to wake up at 6am? Well, Popeye the Sailor Man, of course.

Exiting the bedroom I step onto the square shaped kitchen tiles, wearing my white, soon to be dirty, socks. What lies before me is a tiny beige hallway leading up to a wide kitchen that connects to the living room further back. As previously mentioned, the world is dark and quiet, but I could navigate my home without a light source. To anyone else this would be the stuff of nightmares, seeing a little boy with moppish curly hair cruising about in the dark like it’s no one’s business. Luckily, I hardly made any noise. 

With the strength of Hercules, I grab myself a heavy wooden chair to reach the red box of Froot Loops from atop the fridge. The bag inside crinkled and crackled as I tilted it. Falling rainbow rings clattered about and dispersed into an orange bowl, forming a mighty hill of sugar. Now opening the fridge door with a light tug, I reach for the gallon of milk with the blue cow on it to pour into my bowl. Alas, they’ve submerged, I tapped around on the cereal with my silver spoon to ensure each ring was covered. Now that my breakfast of champions was complete it was time for the entertainment.

A digital ‘6:04 am’ is highlighted on the cable box in lime green. I grab the plastic silver optimum remote from the brown leather couch in the living room, turning the TV on and lowering the volume completely to keep up with the ninja act. Now, the cable box is turned on with a little white light. I sit criss-cross (applesauce) onto the large brown patterned rug below me.

The Boomerang channel, that was my destination. There I can watch Popeye on 1-2 bars of volume in the relatively silent bliss of morning. Raising the silver spoon from my pool of sugar, I take my first bite of cereal and crunch on artificially flavored goodness. Ever since then, I’ve been waking up early naturally, but it’s funny to think it began as a result of cartoon airtimes.

Before entering the café, I caught a preview of what was to come. A single glass door separated two worlds, the one I currently stand in being the cold putrid street with crowds of people and the café’s snug world, full of calm lighting, chatty people, and an abundance of plants. Stepping one foot in, there was an atmosphere of comfort, I think what contributed to it was that it was nighttime. The café depended on dim lighting and soft warm lights from lamps that brightened certain spots. An overwhelming amount of chatter in each corner. Each table was engulfed with the smell of coffee. With each step, you come across plants you must push through and that flutter above people’s heads while they sit. The room is made to be comfier with colored couches, pink, green, and brown. I sink back into the yellow sofa and immediate sleepiness comes over me, but when am I not tired? I enjoyed the calm environment and the velvet feel of the seat. 

 The black mug with a red interior holds my mocha that I feared to taste, would it be too strong? Would it be bitter? It’s just right. The right amount of chocolate filled my mouth although it burned my tongue, I continued to sip. My friend’s muffin crumbled in my hands and discouraged me from trying it despite it looking delicious. Once comfortable, I began to look around the café curious about what others were doing, in front of me sat a couple chatting and laughing as they leaned into each other. To avoid feeling, even more, lonelier I turned behind me where the baristas worked indecently and often give a smile to a customer.  

Suddenly I could smell something other than coffee, something like a botanical garden, a humid scent. Once I looked up there was a plant hanging over us. “Kind of smells like pee,” says my friend which ruined the smell for me instantly. More people came in with their pets, two dogs who jumped from left to right on top of their owners, but I appreciated their silence, no barking. The music began to play very loudly, which made people talk louder, and the comfort was starting to wear off. A glance at my phone as it flashed 9:15 PM, in shock I decided it was time to head home