Morning feels wrong before I even open my eyes.
Not in a dramatic way. Nothing sharp or sudden. Just a low, persistent sense that I’ve woken up half a step out of sync with myself, like my body started the day without waiting for my mind to catch up.
I lie there longer than usual, staring at the ceiling while the cabin settles around me. The quiet presses in, thicker than it should be. No knock. No footsteps. No sign that last night left anything behind except the memory of it.
That doesn’t mean it didn’t matter.
I get up and head for the shower, moving on autopilot. The water comes on hot, then hotter, steam filling the small space until the mirror fogs over completely. I step under it without testing the temperature, letting it sting my skin like I’m trying to scrub something off tha
