The Shifting Skies
Lena had always loved the mornings, especially when the sun was still soft, casting golden light through the window as she sipped her coffee. But today, the warmth of the sun seemed to mock her. She stared at the steam rising from her cup, feeling the coldness in her chest that no amount of heat could chase away. The darkness that had clouded her mind for days was lifting, but there was a strange aftertaste, like the remnants of a storm that hadn’t quite passed.
It had been a rough few weeks. She’d been sinking into a pit of despair, unable to get out of bed, too exhausted to even open her eyes for more than a few hours at a time. She hadn't been able to focus on work, her friends' messages piling up unanswered, and the world outside her apartment felt like it belonged to someone else. The weight of nothingness had been suffocating.
Then, just like that, the storm had changed.
One night, she went to bed exhausted, her mind still foggy and slow, and woke up the ne