A well-worn journal lies open on the table. You take a peek inside.
I just love the way dew glistens in the morning sun. Sunrises come and go, but it always glistens just the same every day, without fail. It greets me as I wake up each morning, along with the scent of fresh greens from the market, telling me that another day has come.
Breakfast is always the same, yet I never get tired of it. I never get tired of saying "good morning" to Abel as he searches for new fabrics among the stalls, of the colors of the flowers and pastries arranged to warmly greet customers, of the smell of the wood when I polish the countertop each morning before opening my own stall for business.
Customers are happy smiles, smiles I share with them. Between purchases I share stories with other merchants, of the day-to-day, and of glad tidings. I enjoy hearing about their lives, almost as much as I love telling them of mine.
One of my favorite parts of the day, every day, but... there's something I don't like. I look forward to each and every day, perfect just the way it is, but lately the stories I hear from them have gotten a bit... darker.
Undead in the north, and strange happenings in the swamp... just what is going on outside our walls?
Our walls are safe, and we've been blessed with such strong and brave guards, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid the times are changing. My beautiful days may not last. Will I see an awful change tomorrow? Next week? Next year?
I don't know, but I can't let myself think like that. I love my life, and all I can do is enjoy each day as it comes and as it goes, living in the moment, and savoring each special day.
One day everything may come crashing down, but until that time comes, I will wake up each morning holding onto joy as the dew glistens in the sun.
