Cup o' Noodles morning, languorous, gently-buffeted day

The day starts greyly and a little late. Roll out of bed in the cool East Bay air that swirls in our room, pass the piano keyboard that crowds my side of the queen-sized bed, which is a smidgen too small, along with the super-comfy comforter, for us.

Tired body opens the bedroom door, seeing grey morning light fill the room and the little cat, lonely sleeping on his bed, which is actually a sitting cushion rolled up.

It's island-in-the sky quiet; at 6am you'd expect more noise. The walls themselves, and the blinds, appear to be sleeping. 

Walk to the bus stop a hundred yards away over the not-busy-yet highway. Arrive at the bus stop, an empty "Cup of Noodles" cup rolls on the healthy sidewalk gently in the slight, steady dawn breeze. An Asian dude does calisthenics, including squats and holding his body against the bus pole. He's doing something that looks like a glorious stretch - folding over his toes into a forward fold and then twisting his chest to face upward along with one hand.

I sit on the narrow, painted-wood bus stop seat. The woman next to me on the miniature water lily-colored seat has some rhinestone-laced open-toed flats on. The rhinestones make up the middle of a flower. Her black-painted toenails have fireworks of colors painted on them, exploding.