DEPARTURES

FLIGHT          DESTINATION           STATUS
─────────────────────────────────────────────
EVERYONE ELSE   THE DAY               ON TIME
YOUR ALARM      SNOOZED               DELAYED
THE SUN         YOUR CURTAINS         ARRIVED
THAT VERSION    WHO HAD PLANS         CANCELLED
OF YOU
YOUR COFFEE     LUKEWARM              BOARDING
THE CITY OUT    WITHOUT YOU           DEPARTED
THERE           (AGAIN)
THE PERSON      THE OTHER SIDE        NO
WHO USED TO                           LONGER
POUR A SECOND                         IN
CUP                                   SERVICE

You are the only passenger who hasn't moved. Not because you're stuck — because somewhere between the alarm and the window you decided that staying still was the one honest thing left to do today. The skyline keeps commuting without you. It doesn't notice. Skylines never do.

The mug on the nightstand isn't half-empty or half-full. It's just the only thing in the room that's given up at the same rate you have.

Outside: a whole city, boarding.
Inside: one woman, watching the gate close on a day she never checked in for.

FINAL CALL — LAST BOARDING — ROW: YOUR SPINE, STILL FACING THE WRONG WAY