The Paradox of Human Spirit

It was early. In fact, for a tonic winter morning, it was really early. And for a nocturnal man like me, it was really, really early. Not that I wake up late, but let’s just say that at 5 am, it’s best not to engage me in generic prattle.

But it was strangely different this morning. I wasn’t miffed at anything, nor did I feel jumpy. I simply sat on the sofa, staring at the television screen which had been in sleep mode since the clock had chimed at 11 the previous night.

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