The coolness of the early morning is deceptive; the sun has barely risen and this altitude is always cooler. My destination is low down and deep into the interior, well away from the onshore winds. Upon the petals sit a hundred beads of water, each one a perfect sphere, brilliant in the morning rays. Each drop sits so lightly, yet together they are enough to cause the bloom to bow toward the earth. So delicate is the flower that even these scatterings of dew are significant. Soon the gentle heat of the morning will send them back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Hades was in the kitchen taking a sip of his hot black coffee when Michael suddenly appeared.
"You are in your deep thoughts again Senior," Michael stated, taking a cup on the shelf.
