The thermostat is off.  The furnace sits inactive.  Because it’s June.  But as I roll over in my bed and open my eyes to my sleepy morning the air slips between my sheets.  Brushes against my body.  A shiver.  And the tiny bumps raise on my arms.  My skin pulls tight and I wriggle further into bed pulling my blankets snug around me.

It’s too early.  It’s too dim even with the curtains open wide, inviting in every ounce of sunshine that may fall upon the panes of my window.  Eyes closed again I nuzzle my pillow.  My fingers find the loose fabric of the t-shirt draped around me and pull and twist to feel more fabric against my skin.  To press out the chill air.  The morning air on the first day of June in Portland.