Notes from a Quiet Morning

Nothing happened this morning worth telling anyone about, which is exactly why I wanted to write it down. The light came in sideways through the kitchen window. The coffee took longer than usual to brew because I’d forgotten to grind more beans the night before.

Why I keep writing the unremarkable

Most days don’t have a headline. They have a texture — the particular quiet of a Tuesday, the small decisions nobody else notices. I think if I only wrote about the big moments, I’d end up with a very thin record of a very full life.

So here’s an ordinary morning, written down anyway. I suspect I’ll be glad I did.