Five

It costs 5 dollars for a Sunday New York Times in Lubbock, Texas. It also costs 5 dollars in gas to find a business that sells it, thank you unmentionable large coffee conglomerate. I passed on the 5 dollar mochachino frape' with kung fu grip in favor of all the news that's fit to print. Did you get all that?
I travelled the 5 miles back to the 'Stubbs' subdivision 'jonesing' for folgers. 5 bucks for cigarettes and 5 bucks for milk to compliment my breakfast. I found myself in the heat and humidity fit for a June Sunday in the Hubaplex. I spent 5 minutes retrieving the perfection of paper slash morning coffee breakfast bliss.
The Pixies exclaimed in my head, 'If the devil is six, then God is Seven! God is Seven! God is Seven! I must be Five I thought, not in the context of age, but just as a being. As I sipped my Lubbock water Folgers, I realized there were five words in this sentence. This monkeys gone to heaven.
Other than hearing the words 'Touchdown Red Raiders!' or the United Spirit Arena announcer utter 'Darryl Dora THREEEEE!', my favorite thing is lazy Sunday morning peace and quiet. That and the 5 seconds of anticipation of what is..... and what may become.....when beginning to read.