Elena stepped into the quiet kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound filling the space. The day had drained her completely, and her body felt heavier than usual. She opened the pot sitting on the counter and scooped the last bit of the porridge she had cooked earlier that morning. It wasn’t much, but it was warm, familiar, and comforting—exactly what she needed.
She placed the bowl into the microwave and pressed the buttons slowly, her mind drifting back to everything that had happened that day. As the microwave whirred, she leaned against the counter, letting her shoulders relax for the first time since morning. When the timer beeped, she brought the steaming bowl to the small dining table and ate quietly. The porridge tasted a little bland, but she didn’t mind. It fille
