As the red-eyes scavenge on the dawn..

I awoke with a peculiur felling of impending doom. Today might be my last day. What lay luring on me after the sun has risen?
With a heavy heart, I tasted the moring dew, thick in the air. I have to call mother, tell her that I love her. Tell her that she raised me well. Tell her to not fret, not cry, nor mourn my fate.
Maybe this was the last breath of magic in my life I took. I saw it evaporate on the carwindow infront of the orange stripe of dusk in the horizon. The last moring stars might have caught it, keeping the magic there for me 'til the day I die.
The headlights bump across the dark road and I gently pass into the rythmic bumps, so tired right now...