Aksonance (April 2026)
The latch was stiff from staying shut, dust along the painted frame. A thin line of afternoon waiting just outside my name. Traffic hum and distant doors, a curtain breathing on its own.
Open windows, let it move, through the corners, through the room. Open windows, nothing said, just the air above the bed. It doesn’t ask, it doesn’t wait, it moves across the open space.
