Yesterday, I sat outside eating strawberries on a hot afternoon, and I felt it. The roses hanging drunk and heavy over the wall, the neighbour’s cat curling on its back in the dusty street. I looked up at the sun sliding out of the sky like a melting blob of butter and there it was: joy.
On Joy
On Joy
On Joy
Yesterday, I sat outside eating strawberries on a hot afternoon, and I felt it. The roses hanging drunk and heavy over the wall, the neighbour’s cat curling on its back in the dusty street. I looked up at the sun sliding out of the sky like a melting blob of butter and there it was: joy.