You keep going anyway, but that wish is still there, like a quiet whisper at the back of your mind.

It is almost like sunlight through a window on a cold morning: not dramatic, just gently warming everything it touches.

You know that quiet exhaustion that comes at the end of a day spent replaying what other people did wrong?

That quiet tug is exactly where these words speak to you.

That moment when the alarm goes off and, instead of a weight on your chest, you feel a small pull of interest, maybe even excitement.