THE MONDAY AFTER

Laura lay in bed, eyes fixed on the pale light filtering through her blinds. The world outside seemed muted, as if holding its breath. No alarms blaring, no early conference calls, no crushing Monday morning dread. Just the stillness of an empty morning.

She wasn’t used to this—the quiet. Her body, conditioned to the chaotic rhythm of the old workweek, hummed restlessly. It was a workday, after all. A Monday, but without the usual grinding rush to throw on a blazer, gulp down bitter coffee, and merge into the slow-moving tide of traffic. Now there was space. Time to think.

And that was dangerous.