Himani exited the bathroom, when delicate tufts of the sunlight had started faltering over the crinkled bed, seeping through her window shields. Sauntering over to the windows, she pushed the screens apart as the balmy, luminous light glistened at her face. She dumped the used up clothes in the laundry basket and strolled up to her wardrobe, soft whorls of her lush hair skidding over her shoulders. She singled out her most favorite chef jacket that was tidy, wrinkle free and was hanging—the pearl gray one, with her name embroidered on the breast pocket, that her mom had gifted her