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.
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Now Note: the shape of the morning
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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.