Early mornings come too quickly, no matter what time zone.
One morning, though, my sleepy eyes were greeted with a pleasant sight. I stepped into a painting by Caravaggio. The dark room was illuminated by only the space between the shudders. The light itself hit only the turned down bedclothes, which become a brighter white. I smiled, resisting the urge to go back to sleep.
I wish I had taken a picture, but I was afraid of ruining the lighting.