After The Hour At Which You Ought To Rise,
It Is All Over.
~ Sir Walter Scott ~
Thursday, February 16th ~ Morning
The day began for Luna when she woke up. It didn't matter what the clock told her or if it was darkest night outside. She'd decided a long time ago that there had to be a reason for waking up and she wouldn't find out what it was if she stayed in bed and fell asleep again. Hence, the middle of the night visit to the little building beside the post office. She'd finally been able to rent it and had been anxious to get started cleaning it out. There were oodles of things the previous tenant had left and until she'd looked at all of it, she wouldn't know what to get rid of. Just trashing the whole lot would be something that most people would do, but would horrify Luna. Who knew what treasures you might find.
A path to the front doors had been forged and she couldn't wait to open them up. Quite why it mattered yet, only Luna knew and as it turned out, it appeared that the feeling she had that it had to be now was well founded.
She beamed at the young man walking by before waiving.
"Seamus! Isn't it a beautiful morning?"