The face in the mirror smiled, and she couldn’t help but smile right back.
It wasn’t that careful, checking-herself-over kind of look. It was more of an “oh, today’s version of me feels pretty great” sort of grin. She flashed a sudden heart sign at her own reflection, then completely cracked up at herself for being so ridiculous before coffee.
Her phone was blinking frantically on the nightstand. The countdown chime was ringing for the third time.
She was officially, undeniably late.
She grabbed her canvas tote mid-stride, one sneaker not even fully onto her heel yet. The front door slammed shut behind her with a sharp *bang*, and right at that exact microsecond, a little thought popped up in her brain — the keys were, in all probability, still sitting on the wooden table by the entrance.
She froze on the landing for half a second.
But the plans mattered more. The keys could easily be a problem for later-her to panic about. Right now, she was already skipping down the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time.
There was a tiny boutique on the corner. Wind chimes were clinking in the window, alongside a dozen beautiful, unnameable little objects that she desperately wanted to run her fingers over. She was supposed to be sprinting straight to her destination. Her feet turned into the shop anyway. *Just a quick peek,* she bargained with herself. *In and out. Ten seconds.* Ten minutes later, she had joyfully touched the textures of three different handmade mugs, asked the owner an enthusiastic question about the hand-painted patterns, bought a bright pink cold drink, and only then remembered that she actually had a clock to beat.
Walking back out into the blazing sunlight, she took a long, sharp sip.
The cold sweetness hit her throat, and the sound of ice clicking against the cup made her feel completely, absurdly happy right there on the pavement.
Happiness, she decided, really doesn’t need a definition any more complicated than that.
The keys? Right. She’d just call a locksmith later, or maybe finally upgrade to a fingerprint lock this weekend. Problem solved, more or less. Moving on.
The sun was warm, the drink was sweet, and honestly, knowing her friends, whoever she was meeting hadn’t even shown up yet anyway.
Today was already entirely enough, just like this.
*Some kinds of caution don’t look anything like caution. They just know when it’s okay to hand yourself over to this exact moment.*
Happiness, sometimes, really doesn’t need a definition any more complicated than ice clicking against a cup.
