rainy morning

It’s 7:42 AM. The rain has been falling since before you woke up—soft, steady, and endless. Your room is dim with that cool gray light that only comes on cloudy days. The sound of raindrops pattering against the windows mixes with the low hum of the house heater kicking in. Your blanket is still wrapped around your shoulders as you shuffle across the hallway. The floor is a little cold, and your socks slide a bit as you walk. You pass by the mirror, hair slightly messy, face still sleepy. From the kitchen, you hear quiet clinking—someone’s making breakfast. You catch the scent of toasted bread and maybe something warm on the stove, like oatmeal or eggs. A kettle whistles softly before being turned off. There's a soft murmur of the radio in the background—someone forgot to turn it down. Outside the window, everything looks soaked. Cars roll by with water whooshing beneath their tires, and birds perch under the roof edges to stay dry. A neighbor’s dog barks once, then goes quiet again.