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Author’s POV
Morning sunshine slipped softly through the sheer curtains, casting a golden hue on the peaceful bedroom. The world outside had begun to stir, but inside, a tender silence prevailed—except for a tiny movement under the covers.
Atharv, still drowsy, stretched his little arm to the side — a habit he’d formed over time — just to feel the comfort of his mother's presence. But his tiny palm met only the cold mattress.
His lips curled downward, his chest rising in a quick breath. His lip quivered, and a tear welled up in his eye as his fingers tightened on the sheet. The absence of her warmth beside him made his little heart ache.
He opened his eyes slowly — two dewy orbs, glassy with unshed tears. Blinking a few times, he sat up, rubbing one eye with a tiny fist. His gaze moved around the bed… and then stopped.
Balancing studies and storytelling is a challenge I embrace wholeheartedly, and your presence motivates me to keep going
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