The way the light peeked shyly through the blinds made it feel like home. The raindrops that fell on the window sill made the perfect sunday morning music. The coffee was strong enough to wake up but sweet enough to do it slowly. It could have been love right then and there but fate had other plans.
It was never my plan to seek for more love than she could spare nor my intent to give her out to loneliness when she failed to deliver. Apparently, it all happened. In a blink.
We weren’t left with much, a few words here and there, but all very distant. Still, we had a little bit of good to remember. It may seem foolish now, but the memory of those sunday mornings remains untouched and is as precious as gold.