Better Days -

“I think today’s one of them.”

They stood there for a long time. Grace began to hum—an old sea shanty, the one she used to sing while washing dishes. Lena joined in, off-key and unashamed. A flock of gulls wheeled overhead, crying out like rusty hinges. The golden seam in the clouds widened, just a little. Better Days

Grace smiled—a real smile, the kind that used to light up whole rooms. “Which one?” “I think today’s one of them

Better days wasn’t a destination. It wasn’t a lottery win or a cure or a clean bill of health. It was a crack of light in the grey. A moment. A hummed song on a rocky bluff. It was the work of two hands, holding on. A flock of gulls wheeled overhead, crying out

Lena laughed, and the sound cracked open something in her chest. “He wasn’t wrong about everything.”