This morning began like many others,
quiet steps, small routines,
a body already a little tired
before the world even asked anything of it.
The day started with simple, hands-on tasks.
Shoes to arrange,
small responsibilities to carry.
I reached for hangers,
helped where I could,
doing my part in quiet ways that often go unseen.
Work unfolded in fragments.
There were tasks to complete
math, words, colours
things that should have felt light
but were carried in a heavier atmosphere.
Voices rose around me,
...

This morning began quietly, before the sun fully rose.
There was something steady in the routine, something grounding.
But the world outside felt different.
A near miss. A messy space.
Moments that felt rushed, slightly off, a little overwhelming.
Yet, the day did not stay heavy.
There were small kindnesses.
A drink given. A seat shared.
Soft conversations that made the journey feel less lonely.
There were also moments that stung a little.
A harsh tone. A look. A feeling of being unseen.
But instead of...

I woke before the sun,
in a house already moving.
The sound of water,
of chores already begun,
of expectations carried in the air
before I could even fully breathe.
I moved through the morning
like a quiet routine
brush, fold, pack, bathe, eat
trying to do everything right
before the day could question me.
But even small decisions
became something to be measured.
So I stepped out
into a world already awake.
A bus ride
a sudden hit at the side
a moment of shock
then stillness again
I am safe, I reminded myself
...