OMERTÀ
My mood dropped.
I drew the curtains apart. The light hit instantly, golden and warm as the soft evening sun filtered through the narrow gap. It stretched lazily across the floor, claiming the space little by little as I spread the fabric apart. The warmth kissed my face, and without thinking, I smiled. It wasn’t much — a faint, tired smile — but it felt good. The sky outside was a rich, fiery orange, the kind that made everything look softer, calmer. I stood there, letting the glow wash over me, allowing my smile to widen just a little more.
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