a word that never arrives
it's friday. 3pm. i'm sitting here, typing.
it’s been raining since yesterday. thunder somewhere far away.
no notifications. no voices.
just me.
and the strange thing is, nothing is actually wrong.
the room is the same. the rain sounds the same. everything is exactly where it should be.
and yet, something feels… slightly off. like a word on the tip of your tongue that never arrives.
i keep thinking it’ll pass. that this is just one of those quiet afternoons that stretches a bit too long.
but it doesn’t.
it just lingers.
like there’s something i’m supposed to reach for, but i’ve forgotten what it was.
or maybe,
i remember. i just leave it there.
so i sit here a little longer than i should, watching the rain fall like it always has,
wondering why it sounds different today.
-ace