Some changes do not announce themselves. They gather.
A person continues with their ordinary habits, answers messages, moves through rooms, performs the expected sequence of recognitions. And then one morning the world appears fractionally re-arranged, as if the furniture of reality had been nudged in the night.
Nothing is missing.
Everything is elsewhere by a breath.
One could call this confusion.
One could also call it the early architecture of a new life.
M⟲
Studio Shorts | Short Essays, Notes, and Dispatches | Kirenya
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