Waking up late, I skip breakfast.
I turn on the computer, listen to some music.
The sun shines outside, I go for a run in the park.
On returning, I grab a Philip Larkin collection and absent-mindedly read some poems.
It's a fine, but normal Sunday.
I start thinking about what to have for dinner.
The phone rings. My sister.
"You're an uncle!"
My nephew was born on this fine, but normal Sunday, 4:22 PM.
I get on the train to meet him.
Arriving, I see my sister beaming with happiness.
Arriving, I see my nephew perfect and asleep.
I'm back home on this fine, but normal Sunday.
I turn off the light and go to sleep, smiling.
If miracles as huge as this can happen on normal day like this,
Life can't be bad.