That morning began like so many others — quiet, uneventful, routine. The sun had barely risen, casting a pale golden light across the garden, and the air still carried the coolness of night. I stepped outside with the intention of doing something simple, even mundane: watering the flowers, checking for any mess caused by the neighborhood cats who loved tipping over trash bins and digging in the dirt. It was a task I did every morning without much thought.
But that day, something felt different. I didn’t know why, at first. The sky was clear, birds chirped in the distance, and everything seemed ordinary — until I reached the front gate.