At first I thought it was the foxes. Things being shifted slightly, a shuffling sound. Then I realised it was the sound of the of a broom, a big one. A single blackbird was singing, a train, a plane, the traffic rumbling away. Eventually I peeped out of the window and saw him turning the corner with his hi-viz jacket. The man who sweeps the streets before the sun comes up, who leaves order behind, had already moved on.
I snuck back to bed for a few minutes, heard the milkman leaving the milk. I thought about next door's builders having their Macdonalds somewhere on the road between here and Billericay. And the morning last week when my neighbour and I rushed out in our PJs as the bin-men arrived early. "They've changed our schedule, love. We'll be getting here by seven from now on" he said smirking at us with our bare feet and shoulders.
I do wish I was a morning person.