write the beginning of a book. It’s in first person. The setting is modern. It’s gentle, descriptive and detailed. There’s a big twist on the last lines.
This is so needed. It’s been too long since I’ve been outside. It started as a simple trash run. But I just couldn’t go back inside. I’m standing here, taking it all in.

It’s a lovely Tuesday morning. It’s 8:16am. Normally, the sun would be out and about. But today’s different. It’s overcast. And the temperature is only 52° in April! I’ve heard about April showers. I think they’re coming today. And it makes my heart happy.

As soon as I walked outside, the smell hit me. It’s not quite the smell of rain, but almost. It feels like there’s a tiny bit of moisture in the air. That, combined with the general coolness, cloudiness, and morning crisp is wonderful on the senses. The air feels incredibly refreshing on my hands and face. The gentle breeze blows sweet wisps of cool. I’d consider it to be nearly cold, but still cool. In a warm fuzzy hoodie and soft sweatpants, the temperature couldn’t be more perfect.

The birds are happy. I think they love today, too. I can hear all sorts of cackles and caws and chirps to my left and right. All the birds are greeting each other happily. I can hear some cars humming down the streets and an occasional school bus. I’m by a fire station, and I can usually hear sirens about a quarter of the time. I can’t see most of the cars because I’m surrounded by houses at all sides. But they’re there. And they’re busy. And they’re all doing their lives, just the same as I am.

Oh, look! A squirrel is running along the telephone line. My gentle dog, fluffy and white, is oblivious. She finally noticed it. She sprinted hard, chasing it! I don’t know why she even tries. It’s 25 feet up in the air. And she can reach about 8. Oh well, at least it’s some excitement for her.

I’m soaking in the sights, the smells, the sounds, with everything I’ve got in me. I won’t be able to enjoy this for much longer. In one hour, I will report to court and serve my time. In one hour, I’m going to prison for the next 28 years.