This morning began gently,
though the throat carried a quiet ache.
There was routine
brushing teeth, preparing breakfast,
small movements that felt almost automatic,
as if the body remembered what to do
even when the heart was elsewhere.
Smoke from a joss stick curled into the air,
a quiet prayer offered without many words.
Somewhere in between the ordinary,
something shifted.
A presence that had once been constant
fell silent.
No explanation,
no closing sentence
just a space where something used to be.
It...

This morning began quietly,
with small routines held together
by effort more than ease.
The body moved,
even when it didn’t feel like it could.
Step by step—
to the sink,
to the kitchen,
to the quiet act of preparing something warm.
There was discomfort,
the kind that lingers in the chest
and rises in coughs that do not ask for permission.
Even the hand carried a dull reminder
of healing that has not yet finished.
Still, the day continued.
Clothes were folded.
Plans were made for another day ahead.
Medicine...

Today began with discomfort before the sun was fully awake.
My body felt uneasy — waves of nausea rising and falling like a restless tide. Even brushing my teeth became difficult, and breakfast would not stay.
The morning turned into a quiet journey to the hospital. The corridors were filled with many different stories — an elderly woman with a fracture, a man in pain, another patient waiting for a scan. In that observation room, strangers shared the same fragile space between sickness and...