⸻ The sky was painted in soft tones of gray, threatening rain but not quite delivering it. Freyja liked days like this — they made everything feel a little quieter, like the world was pressing pause. She sat alone on a bench just off a quiet path in the park, one hand wrapped around a takeaway cup of tea, the other gently rocking the stroller beside her with an instinctive rhythm. Nils was finally asleep after fussing through the better part of the morning. The fresh air had helped. Her fingers were cold, but she didn’t mind. The sleeves of her coat were pushed over her palms, and a soft knit scarf was bunched around her neck.
She took a slow sip and glanced around — the kind of glance that meant nothing and everything, as if she were half hoping to see someone familiar and half hoping not to be noticed at all. A jogger passed. A kid on a scooter. Someone sitting alone on the grass nearby. Freyja exhaled slowly and spoke aloud, more to herself than anyone else: ❛ I used to think life would be more straightforward by now. ❜ But her voice carried a little farther than she meant it to. And maybe, just maybe, someone heard.
@addisonxoconnell
