4:30 A.M. It’s cold, very cold. Paco’s tail is a sign of happiness, my being wants to go back to bed. Water is irritating my eyes as if my new day takes sacrifices for happiness. Paco doesn’t know it; I transform pain to waking up. Paco hesitates to take his physiological needs out. In a New York second, he’s back, his tail is a sign of happiness again.

Ice cracking under my feet, nostrils are sticking as I breath, ice shaving gets me moving, engine whistle settles in my ears, waving tail images are back in my mind, warmer seat sets in under my ass, gloves are off my hands, happiness kicks in.

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