Just a day

Some times,
it is just a day. Nothing amazing happens, nor anything ugglesome. It is simply a day. What to think of these "ordinary" days I have yet to decide. So far between they come, and so easy to forget are they that you often wonder if they ever happened. Let this be the evidence. Even as I write of this simplicity I doubt it. Was there something I missed? Some minor detail to label this section of history from the others? Would it have made a difference if there was? This simplicity was my experience after all, not the one recorded for generations to come. It was this day that that I will remember, despite of what paper and pen may hold against me. But this day, this simple day, was a miracle.