She awoke to the Tyndall effect the rays from the nearest star made in her small room. She could see the dust particles dancing around each other. She wondered how much of it was cosmic. She smiled.
On her way to work, she bought more than a couple of roses from the young boy at the crossing. The water drops shone like precious stones on the petals. She smiled.
She typed out the report she was to submit. As her fingers moved across the keyboard, the clicks rhythmically buzzed in her ears. She thought of the electrons zigzagging through the silicon jungle within her laptop. She smiled.
She passed by a temple in the evening. She had never ventured into one. Yet, the smell of the incense sticks was her favourite. She smiled.
She popped corn kernels for a late night movie. The oil simmered and the kernels flowered with the pop, clonking against the lid. She smiled.
“She smiles easily,” they said.
Because. “Every atom has a poetry,” she thought.