The light came in slowly.
Not dramatically. Not the kind that announces itself. Just enough to soften the edges of the room before anything else had a chance to begin.
Nothing was late.
Nothing was early.
There was no decision to make yet.
A cup sat where it had been left.
A chair waited without purpose.
The day had not asked for anything.
These mornings rarely leave evidence. They pass through quietly, unnoticed even by the people living inside them. They feel insignificant while they are happening and impossible to retrieve once they’re gone.
This one never happened at all.
And still, it felt familiar.
