I put the kettle on. I watched the water boil. I poured it over the tea leaves and let it steep. I sat at my small table and looked out the window. The sky was pale blue. A delivery truck rolled past on the street below. My phone buzzed once. It was an email from a local culinary school. They had received my application for their evening management course. I smiled. I didn't answer. I took a slow sip of tea. It tasted like orange peel and warm wood. I washed my cup later. I dried my hands. I went to bed early. The next morning, the rain stopped. The city kept moving. I turned the key in the ignition. I drove forward.