Ah, the pre-dawn hours!

When coyotes lurk for their breakfast buffet…

When the cold catches its own tail…

When the world awaits on tenterhooks for the saving graces of the sun…

And, when mentally iffy writers are jarred awake by restless elder and pushy puppy muses ready to drag the day in by the scruff of its reluctant neck.

Yes, good pre-dawn to you all!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe of the Bloodshot Eyes