“Is it already morning?” Ram asked. Sita was shuffling to the bathroom.
“My morning,” she said, as she fiddled with the doorknob, “you can keep sleeping.”

He watched her as she twisted the knob one way and then the other. She leaned against the door as if to push it, but not with any force. Her movements were slow, as if she could not hurry anymore, even if she wanted to. Such an imperceptible change. When they had got married thirty years back, she used to be so fast and energetic that even he’d found it difficult to keep up with her.

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