Out before the traffic

The street was empty enough that I could hear my own steps, and a truck somewhere on the next block that never came into view.

At the bakery the light was already on, though the door was still locked. Flour on the sill. I did not wait. The walk was the errand.

By the time I turned back, two cars had parked and the quiet was over. I had the first part of the morning, which was what I went out for.