It was one of those Saturday mornings where the world outside felt almost too bright and besides, Seth Anderson had gotten used to sleeping in.
When the noisy jingle of keys echoed in the hallway, followed by his mother's assertive voice announcing she was off to the farmer's market, Seth simply groaned and tugged an old, worn pillow over his head.
His room felt comforting — warm with that faint morning glow fighting to peek through the blinds. With his peace restored, Seth surrendered to the drowsy embrace of early weekend laziness until — **thwack!**
A ball of which he was unsure if it was solid enough to be lethal or hollow enough to just be annoying tapped his window. Even with the blinds drawn, he could feel the eyes staring.
He shuffled towards the window, pulled the blinds apart enough to peer through, and there she was – Emma from two houses over, standing in her yard with unapologetic pride and an exaggerated wave.
“It’s Saturday!” she shouted. “You promised!”
Seth blinked and tried to sort through yesterday’s brain clutter around any promises made.
“Emma!” Seth hollered, half concerned for peeping neighbors. “Promise what exactly?”
She beamed and gestured for him to come out. The energy was her currency. There was something about Emma that made everything feel like it warranted a movie trailer.
Rising from bed, Seth threw on the first clothes his hands fell upon and, coffee craving in tow, ambled out to meet his force of nature neighbor.
The mission, as it so happened, was to rescue a tabby cat that had found itself atop the roof of the neighborhood bakery.
“Right, because cats can’t climb down from roofs now?” Seth smirked.
“Not without a little hope, at least,” Emma insisted, as she affirmed the cat's peril through extreme storytelling abilities.
“Do you even know the cat?” Seth asked, wondering briefly if spontaneous roof-cat-rescue operations were regular Saturday morning activities he’d missed out on before.
“Meet Dougie,” Emma introduced matter-of-factly, as if this was Lucille Ball with Desi Arnaz reincarnated into feline form.
How much you can glean about a cat from one fleeting glance aside, Seth concedes the adventure.
“Fine, okay, let’s do it.”
They biked to the bakery, their ragtag convoy of two apparent mischief-makers, through partially dewy streets.
Emma’s wild, joyous laughter rang throughout, contagious while they circled past parked cars, her hair dancing wildly against the wind. People on the sidewalks looked on bemusedly.
When they reached the bakery, now opened but free of buyer congestion, a quick explanation from Emma and a chuckle from the baker landed them on the roof with only a short ladder climb.
Dougie, predictably unimpressed, reluctantly allowed them to scoop him up and place him back in safety.
“You see?” Emma pointed the lesson out as clear as day, “Persistence always pays off!”
Seth laughed — properly laughed — for the first time in days and, just like that, found himself tracing the waking city streets again, this time heading for a park, because Emma never ran dry on plans.
He found himself floating through moments, led by Emma’s achingly whimsical perspective on what an ‘ordinary day’ was.
They drowned doughnuts in coffee, watched street performers tie themselves in complicated knots, and even joined an impromptu dance circle accidentally organized around a busker whose saxophone rewrote morning soundtracks.
Until they meandered to the crest of their little town’s lookout point. There, silence actually felt profound.
“I never get up here alone,” Emma confessed, a rare hint of genuine vulnerability.
Seth nudged her shoulder. “Well, hey, we’re designing awesome now, you and I. Home’s down there until who knows, but that’s life, right?”
“Designing awesome,” Emma echoed thoughtfully.
And with that, the day trailed into serene familiarity, leaving only echoes of laughter and color in its wake. By evening, it’d be wrapped into memories dotted with mischief and camaraderie.
Seth never would have imagined that, tucked beneath blankets of crazy spontaneous encounters and a vague roof-cat catastrophe, life would prove more surprising than typical Saturday mornings promised.