This morning, like any other, began with the soft glow of dawn filtering through my curtains, a silent herald of the day ahead.
As I prepared for work, my routine was seamless, a dance I could do with my eyes closed. Yet, in the midst of this charade, a minor hiccup awaited me — one that, unbeknownst to me, would transform my day in the most unexpected way.
My watch had stopped. Its hands were frozen at 7:42, a silent sentinel against the passage of time.