The sun filtered weakly through the gray morning clouds as Cooper stirred his coffee at the kitchen table, his thoughts
as heavy as the overcast sky. The faint sound of morning traffic hummed in the background, mingling with the rhythmic
drip of the leaky faucet. Across the room, Lila, his younger sister, leaned against the counter, scrolling through her
phone.
"You just need one step, Cooper," Lila said, not looking up. Her voice was calm but carried an edge of frustration.
"One risk. You've been talking about making changes for years."
Cooper sighed, glancing at the vision board pinned to the wall. Photos of charismatic leaders, motivational quotes, and
dream destinations stared back at him—a silent reminder of plans he had yet to act on. "It's not that simple, Lila. You
wouldn't understand."
"Wouldn't I?" Lila finally looked up, her brows furrowed. "Coop, you're smart, reliable, and hardworking. You've got
everything going for you, but you keep holding yourself back."
Her words stung, though he knew she meant well. "It's easy for you to say," he muttered, pushing his coffee aside. "You're
not the one stuck in a dead-end job with no direction."
Lila folded her arms and tilted her head, studying him. "Maybe the job isn't the problem. Maybe it's you."
The silence that followed was heavy. Cooper opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself. What could he say? She wasn't
wrong. Instead, he grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. "I'll see you later."
The office was as uninspiring as ever. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the air smelled faintly of burnt coffee.
Cooper walked to his cubicle, nodding at a few colleagues who barely noticed. As he sat down, Paul popped his head over
the partition with his usual grin.
"Morning, Coop! Big plans for the day?"
Cooper forced a smile. "Just trying to survive another one."
Paul chuckled. "Man, you've got to loosen up. Life's too short to be this serious all the time." He tapped the top of
Cooper's monitor before retreating to his desk.
The day dragged on, a blur of spreadsheets, emails, and Jonathan's gruff voice barking orders. By lunch, Cooper found
himself in the cafeteria, sitting alone at a corner table. The hum of conversation filled the room, but none of it
reached him. He glanced around, his gaze lingering on Megan, a coworker who always seemed effortlessly composed.
She was laughing with a group of colleagues, her smile radiant, her confidence palpable. Cooper sighed, feeling a familiar
pang of envy mixed with admiration. Megan was everything he wasn't—outgoing, magnetic, and seemingly immune to self-doubt.
"Why can't I be like that?" he thought, stirring his soup absentmindedly.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and by evening, Cooper found himself walking home in the rain. The city glowed
under the streetlights, the wet pavement reflecting the world like a distorted mirror. He clutched his umbrella tightly,
his thoughts spiraling.
At home, he stood before the mirror once more. The dim bathroom light cast shadows across his face, making him look older,
more tired. He practiced a smile, then a firm handshake, but it all felt hollow.
"Tomorrow," he whispered. "Tomorrow, I'll start changing."
The words felt like a promise and a lie.