Anyone who knows me well can attest to the fact that I am not a morning person. In order for me to make it out in time, preferably fully dressed, I need to have my clothes laid out the night before, bag packed and lunch chilling in the fridge.

This morning though I was up and out earlier. The Father ship had to go to the Doctors so I went with him and decided to walk to the train station, good exercise for alien legs thinks I.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve been down town before the hustle and bustle of the working day has started. I realised I missed walking the empty streets, the air cleaner because it has not yet been tainted with everyday fumes.

Delivery drivers jostling for prime position in front of the shops which are open, but not yet for business. The shop assistants looking a little aghast at the size of the workload being set before them on the footpath.

The smell of fresh bread and brewing coffee permeates the air, cafes opening their doors and preparing their wares, waiting for the world to wake up and make an appearance.

Men with dogs and papers under their arms head home, oblivious to the surroundings, while others rush to work, lost in thoughts of the day to come.

I want to sit down on a bench and watch the world unfold around me, but sadly I have a train to catch and life moves on as usual.