The Warmth of a Birthday Morning
“Happy birthday!” I greeted him in the living room one August morning.
“Thank you,” he replied softly, his eyes warm and quiet.
It was cool and gray—finally, a break from summer’s usual drama.
The crape myrtles outside were in full bloom, putting on their best show like overachieving guests.
We talked about family and plans, in that cozy half-joking way old couples do.
A new day began, clearly not in a hurry—and neither were we.
gray sky, soft breath—
no need to say everything，
to feel everything.
