Bare feet on cold tile. The weight of a blanket slipping off. The click of the kettle. The smell of whatever soap was on my hands. The taste of toast: not exciting, but enough.Nothing dramatic. Just small data points from the bodytelling me: you’re here.
Now Note: the shape of the morning
Bare feet on cold tile. The weight of a blanket slipping off. The click of the kettle. The smell of whatever soap was on my hands. The taste of toast: not exciting, but enough.Nothing dramatic. Just small data points from the bodytelling me: you’re here.