A Quiet Day

[typingnoise]

 Today was the kind of day that folds in on itself.

Nothing dramatic, nothing urgent. Just the slow unfolding of hours — the kettle boiling, the cat claiming his sun-warmed spot by the window, the soft thrum of a record turning with no one listening too closely. The kind of day where time doesn’t move forward so much as sideways. I answered emails in the morning and forgot them by afternoon. Read a little. Re-read the same paragraph again. Thought about writing, didn’t.

There’s a tenderness to days like these — the way the world hushes itself just enough for your thoughts to make themselves heard. Not loud, not all at once. Just gently: a memory here, a line of a song there. I think I needed it.

No revelations. Just the reminder that stillness is its own kind of company