Habit (a drabble)

In the end, it was habit that saved her.

It was habit that got her out of bed when her alarm went off in the cold dark hours of the morning. Habit that had her showering on autopilot, coffee, cereal, cycling to work. It was habit that had her smiling, “Good morning!”, sitting at her desk and logging on like everything was as it had been before. Habit that shook her out of the haze of grief that surrounded her every couple of hours, to answer the phone or shoot off an email or write a few words, a sentence, a paragraph. In the end, it was habit that kept her coming to work when she could have curled up in her bed for hours and not even cared.

In the end, it was habit that saved her from her grief, because when she heard herself laughing with friends and took in her surroundings and realised that this time, the laughter was real, it was habit that had made her come to her friend’s birthday party.

In the end, it was habit that saved her.

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