The tea had gone
lukewarm, but she didn't
mind. She drank it
anyway, tasting the faint
bitterness settle on her
tongue.
The city sounds floated
up—a bus braking, a
child laughing two streets
over. None of it
urgent.
She leaned against the
railing, the metal cool
under her elbows. The
morning light painted the
rooftops in pale pink,
then white, then ordinary
blue.
A woman across the
courtyard watered her
plants. They caught each
other's eyes, nodded,
looked away.
That was enough.
She finished the last
sip, left the cup on
the ledge, and watched
the steam vanish into the
clear air.
Nothing needed to be held onto.