Morning Rituals

The sun hadn't yet peeked over the horizon when Emily stirred in her bed. The house was still, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the early morning quiet. She slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake her husband, and padded softly down the hallway.

In the kitchen, Emily moved on autopilot, her body accustomed to the rhythm of early mornings. She reached for her favorite mug—a deep blue one with tiny white stars—and then turned to the coffee pod holder sitting on the counter. The holder was shaped like a carousel, with different pods nestled in each compartment. Emily’s fingers hovered over the options before choosing her usual: a medium roast with a hint of caramel.

She placed the pod into the coffee maker, the soft click of the lid closing a satisfying sound. The machine whirred to life, filling the room with the comforting aroma of fresh coffee. As the dark liquid streamed into her mug, Emily took a deep breath, savoring the moment of peace before the day began.

Mug in hand, she walked over to the window. Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten, the first faint streaks of pink and orange brushing the darkness. Emily took a sip, the warmth of the coffee spreading through her, grounding her in the calm before the storm of the day.

It was a small ritual, but one she cherished. These few minutes of solitude were hers alone, a moment to gather herself before the world demanded her attention. Soon, the kids would wake, the house would fill with noise and energy, and her day would unfold in a whirlwind of tasks and responsibilities.

But for now, it was just her, the quiet of the morning, and the simple pleasure of a well-made cup of coffee.