The evening settles unevenly across the room, the kind of quiet that carries more weight than peace. A single lamp glows near the corner of the living room, its soft light reaching only partway into the kitchen. The rest of the space feels dim and slightly off balance, as if something unspoken rests in the air between two breaths.
Returning to Your Body
The bus rattles through late afternoon traffic. Each stop brings a small jolt that moves through the floor into every seat. A woman sits by the window, briefcase tucked tight against her leg. The glass hums with vibration against her shoulder, but she barely notices. Her eyes rest on the city outside, unfocused, as if she is staring past the buildings and people into a place only she can see.
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