The whisper of paper sliding across the table, shadows stretching like forgotten dreams. Today is another blend of mundane and meaningful.
Remember to call Mom. Apples were on sale at the market, she said. I should stop by with some fresh ones just to see her smile.
By noon, the sky turned a canvas of gray. Each step home felt like tracing a well-versed line.
Scribble plans for tomorrow, though they often dissolve in coffee steam or rainy mornings. Yet, there’s peace in the chaos.
To Do: 1) Finish that book 2) Watch the sun set 3) Call Mom