Rainy Sundays and Uninvited Smiles

I have a soft spot for rainy Sundays.

Especially the early ones.

There's something lovely about walking through a sleepy city, watching the little cafés open their doors, and knowing that a warm cappuccino is waiting somewhere.

Even if getting there means negotiating with a few puddles along the way.

And then there are those Sundays when your mind is still carrying little pieces of the evening before.

A laugh.

A conversation.

A walk that lasted a little longer than expected.

The first drops of rain arriving at precisely the wrong moment.

Or perhaps the right one.

You see, I have a rather questionable habit of forgetting my jacket.

Sometimes genuinely.

And sometimes… well, let's just say I may have had a little faith in someone's gentlemanly instincts 🤭

Not my most practical decision.

But certainly not my least romantic one.

And that's the funny thing about memories.

You don't always remember the things you expected to.

Sometimes it's a completely ordinary detail that makes you smile the following morning.

The way the rain interrupted a conversation.

Something silly that made you laugh.

Or simply how nice it was to be somewhere, with no particular hurry to be anywhere else.

I think rainy mornings make me a little more thoughtful.

Not necessarily about anything important.

My mind just likes wandering.

And occasionally, it brings back something lovely.

Which is perfectly fine with me.

I rather enjoy being the sort of woman who finds happiness in small things.

A good coffee.

An unexpected smile.

A little rain.

And perhaps the occasional borrowed jacket.

Although I should probably clarify something.

I do own several perfectly lovely coats.

Remembering to wear them is apparently an entirely different matter 🤭🤍

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