SKYLAR
Morning sunlight spills across my kitchen counter in long golden strips, warming the marble surface beneath my palms as I stack clean plates into the cabinet. I catch myself smiling for no reason other than the fact that I woke up happy today.
Actually happy.
Not pretending-to-be-fine happy. Not forcing-myself-through-the-day happy. Today, this is real happiness. The kind that settles lightly in my chest and makes everything around me seem softer.
I shut the dishwasher with my hip and hum along to the music floating through the apartment. Some old pop song blasts from the speaker on my counter, loud enough to shake the quiet out of the rooms. I grab the basket of freshly dried clothes from the laundry area and carry it into the living room, dropping onto the couch to begin folding.
