3
Nano Banana
The Morning Ritual
The room is still waking up. The bed remains unmade. The curtains soften the morning light. A half-forgotten flower stands in a tiny vase on the dresser. She sits at the mirror applying eyeliner with practiced concentration, steady hand, familiar motion. Behind her, reflected in the glass, he stands in the doorway holding a mug of coffee. He isn't speaking. He isn't interrupting. He is simply watching. Not because she is doing anything remarkable. But because after all this time, he still likes looking at her. And somehow, that is remarkable enough.