It is a dark Friday morning. The squeaky noises and chirping are Zeke wanting to go out. It is dark with a chill in the air, but he does not care. He looks forward to the sunrise.
It is too early for the squirrels to be out, and I do not hear the birds either–just the sound of an airliner in the distance. . . .
There seems to be a change in the air. I sense that things may be changing around here in some way. I wonder what that change will be? Zeke wonders.