The window fogs up just enough to blur the edges of the world. Outside, the rain doesn’t ask for permission. It just falls—steady, soft, honest.
There’s something about grey skies that gives you permission to stop performing. No need to be sunny. No need to be productive. Just be . rainy thoughts
So here’s to quiet afternoons, cold tea, and the strange gift of a storm that cleans more than just the streets. The window fogs up just enough to blur
Let it rain. Let it heal.