I ate toast at the counter while the house slept and it felt more peaceful than a holiday brochure

Dear Delyara, Butter, jam, one small lamp, no one asking anything. I know it sounds unimpressive. But when your life is full of requests, logistics, and little emotional collisions, peace can arrive in the most ordinary disguises. That toast was warm. The kitchen was quiet. My body was not being summoned by anyone. For six minutes I was not mother, wife, organiser, problem-solver, or memory-keeper. I was just a woman eating toast before dawn. I think those moments save me more than the bigger fantasies do.