It was a small thing, almost easy to miss. The way the old shopkeeper at the corner handed back change, not by dropping the coins into the customer’s palm, but by placing them there gently and waiting a brief second longer than necessary. As if making sure the other person felt it, not just received it.
There are people who never begin.
They stand at the edge of their dreams like travelers at a railway platform, holding a ticket but never boarding the train. They wait for the perfect moment, the perfect certainty, the perfect assurance that the journey will be worth it. Years pass. Trains come and go. Their luggage gathers dust beside them.
Then there are those who never stop.
