10am and on. Slowly drifting back to normal. Clouds like waves sailing restless skies. Watching a lonely fly make its way through the shadows cast by dusty island stones on the windowsill. Sometimes, the phone is ringing. Sometimes, the machine will spin up all its fans, blowing heat and that odd scent of electricity deep into the room. Sometimes. (One more coffee to get on par with the morning. And the week.)