After breakfast. Lukewarm coffee. Leftover splatters of gouache on the messy desk. Slow internet connection. Haunting melodies resonating from twisted headphones. A yawning kitten resting on a restless lap.
Pauses. Outside, a chirpy radio jingle. Wooden sticks hitting against billiard balls. Idle street chatter of unfamiliar passersby, falling against the grind of tyres on concrete. Drenched in drizzling showers, a hazy town on Sunday morn.
Breathing in. It’s okay, the afternoon promises you. It’s okay.