Photo by Nafal Haldis on Unsplash
Nothing changed. The moment stayed itself. Silence did not tilt. No meaning was added to it. I was not corrected for being slow. I was not pulled back into conversation.
The air remained usable. When I moved, nothing followed. The absence lingered—not empty, just intact.
I keep it with me, this kind of ending, because it leaves nothing to recover from.
About the Creator
Bailey
Just processing things.
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