They say that there are only 2 kinds of people who are awake in the morning, the lonely and the loved. I don’t know which one I am, but during these hours between sleep and waking, that’s when I feel the surge of life. Writing, for me, is translating some lost sensation into a place you can return to, a dream you’re trying to touch. So as the edge of dawn approaches, it creeps upon me. This fire, this hope. So I hope, and I hope. And I hold onto this hope in my heart like a lifeboat, and I write.