Usually, young Yusra would hurry through the dusty courtyard, her curiosity bubbling like a quietly running stream. The eucalyptus trees swayed above her, whispering tunes only the truly tuned-in could understand. She clutched her study journal under her arm, full of uniquely scribbled thoughts and untidy sketches of butterflies, sunsets, and blue jays. Yesterday, her younger cousin Yusuf had tried to copy her writing, but his clumsy cursive turned out funny and blurry. They both laughed until their bellies ached. Yusra enjoyed the unusual quiet of the early morning, just before the usual noise of busy neighbors and playful kids filled the yard. "You only grow when you use your time wisely," her mother would say, usually while tying up her hair in a bun. That morning, the sky glowed with a dusty hue, and everything felt unusually still, as if the universe had paused to yawn. Yet, Yusra felt a youthful energy bubbling in her chest, urging her to hurry up and try something new, to pursue her unusual dreams without fear or delay.