she stepped into the light.

it was time to wake up.  her alarm told her.  

she could feel the cool morning air snipping at the end of her nose.  did she leave her window open last night?  there was a snap to its cold as she inhaled the breeze through the edge of her nostrils, feeling the air slowly warm as it traveled through her sinuses to her throat and finally into her lungs.  winter was coming.  

reaching out for her clothes hanging on her dresser to her right, she fumbles with the sweater on top and hears the swish and gentle plop of the clothes hitting the floor in a quietly soft cascade that ended in a satisfying thump.  she always tried to multi-task and failed.  but today, she knew her attention had to be sharp and focused, it was a day of firsts. 

she slowly made her way into the bathroom, feeling her surroundings with a growing confidence with each passing step.  the water was finally the right temperature, the cool air snapped against her exposed lower back and she slowly spun into the shower so that the water would remedy the hairs raising on her back.  leaning her head back into the stream of steam and water, she inhaled slowly and imagined the sidewalk gleaming whiter than usual because of the late autumn morning sunlight.  35 steps to the first crosswalk.  the button to cross would be to the on the post hopefully to the left.  the cold metal button beckoning for her.  so forth and so on.  

it was a day of firsts. 

she steps out of the shower and feels for the mischievous towel that always seems to try and elude her.  finally feeling the corner with her damp finger tips, she steps into the warm embrace of her forgetful friend.  patting her mouth dry in her habit of thinking, she experienced a pang of anxiety.  so many more impossible tasks to do before she found the door.  getting dressed from the gentle pile of clothes now in front of the dresser.  discovering her shoes which where hopefully where she left them...and secretly, hoping that they matched her outfit.  but despite her building anxiety, she knew that he would be waiting.  he was always waiting.  today, at the cafe for brunch 110 steps and 2 turns, a right and a left, away.  his soft face and smell, that smell of citrus and wood that she loved so much, quelled her anxiety.  she would because she could.  and because she knew that he waited patiently for her, knowing that she would come...that she could come...

loitioned.  hair hastily dried.  teeth brushed.  dressed.  shoes found and put on.  it was her ballet "burch" pair that was nude so she was confident that she would be put together head to toe.  hair brushed.  bag found.  essentials located inside. 

she asked google what time it was.  she was 10 minutes late.  she quickly spoke off a text to him telling him that she was on her way.  "text message sent".  thank you phone.  she was ready.  should she close the window now?  no, she wanted to air out the room, she would close it later.  she was now, ready. 

she reached for the door.  that elusive stainless steel latch with the lock right above it.  she slowly reached towards the air she felt sneaking it's way through the slits of the doorway.  found it.  one last mental look around the room.  one last mental check of her bag.  

she was ready.  

now.  

again. 

she firmly opened the door and stepped into the cool morning air with a little snap at the end of her nose, winter was coming.  she felt hugged by the warm sunlight that she felt enveloping her body.  and as her hair rose at the edge of the wind's fingers, she stepped into the warm glow of the morning sunlight.  she was 10 minutes late.  and she had an unsure 110 steps and 2 faith-filled and smell guided turns to make.  her anxiety turned to confidence as she remembered the waiting citrus and wood.  

and she began her first 35 steps to the crosswalk.