Shattered Reflections
The morning light filtered through the kitchen window, casting a pale glow over the chipped mug of coffee that sat forgotten on the counter. Anna stirred the remnants of her drink, the steam curling like a ghost of the life they once shared. Across the room, Daniel stood at the stove, his back to her, the faint scent of burnt toast lingering in the air. Their routines had become a silent dance—dutiful, predictable, and hollow. ...