I have to admit, I am pretty satisfied with my life. I can taste the sweet orange juice, nothing like ashes, rolling on my tongue and sliding down my throat with the cool brush of a lover's sweet caress. I feel like my love of the morning rages like a fire burning inside, torching and torturous in is rhapsodical and ecstatic embrace. It burns and consumes me, leaving me cleansed and pure when the flames die away to mere embers. Even the embers glow with a bright orange warmth, warm and inviting, promising nourishment and succour to those who wish it. It reaches into my face and twists my mouth into a smile familiar and comforting, secure in the knowledge that this day will be like every other day on this planet - incredible.