The morning sun seeped through the blinds, painting warm lines across Masti’s face.

She blinked awake, groggy. Her laptop was still open beside her on the bed. Notifications buzzed from the K-drama forum—more replies, reactions, gifs flooding the “Moonlight Letters” thread.

She smiled softly, scrolling through the chaos of passion and fan theories.

“Do you think the second male lead is actually her brother??” “@MapleMochi, you HAVE to write that fanfic now. We need you.”

The warmth in her chest grew. Like someone had lit a candle there overnight.

But then her eyes flicked to the corner of her screen.

8:52 AM
Her meeting was in 8 minutes.

Masti sat up, rubbed her temples, and groaned. She hadn’t looked at her Jira board. She hadn’t opened her inbox. She hadn’t done anything she was supposed to do.

But she had felt something again.
She’d laughed. Typed with excitement. Daydreamed.

She hadn’t done that in a long time.

She placed her laptop on the desk, opened her work calendar with a sigh, and clicked into the meeting link—camera off, mic muted.

As someone else gave their update, Masti opened a blank Notepad window on the side.

Her fingers hovered.

The rain tapped gently on the bookstore windows as he lit the lantern, waiting for a stranger who had already changed his life…

She stopped.

Not now. She couldn’t get distracted. She had responsibilities. A job. A salary. A career path she’d chosen long ago.

Writing was just… a hobby.

Wasn’t it?

Still, her gaze drifted back to the Notepad draft, and a thought whispered through her:

Maybe this isn’t distraction. Maybe this is a calling I’ve been ignoring.

Maybe being in her 40s wasn’t a midlife crisis.
Maybe it was life tapping her shoulder, saying,
“Remember who you are?”

She didn’t write more that morning.
But she saved the file.

And for the first time in months, she didn’t dread the rest of the day.
She prayed—quietly, shyly—for her spark to stay.