When she got up in the morning, she drew a plum blossom painting on the floor-to-ceiling window.
The sun is shining brightly, with the back to the glass, just in time for the reflection of the plum branch in the corner of the lens.
She gave up on the elevator and returned to the stairs. When going down the stairs, I have a habit of looking directly at my feet and imagining myself falling to my death.
Purpose: Daily practice in academic circles