dark reflections
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There is stone that reads throw me sitting on a random shelf. Nobody remembers who put it there. That is the strange part. It isn’t decorative. It isn’t polished enough to belong beside the books, candles, and little porcelain angels collecting dust beneath the stained-glass window. It is an ordinary gray stone. Heavy. Cold. Imperfect.…
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Some people never realize the conversation ended three versions of you ago. They keep typing.Double text.Triple text.Paragraph after paragraph like they are still standing in a courtroom where somebody asked for their defense. Nobody asked. Nobody cares. The audience left halfway through Act One, but they are still center stage sweating under a spotlight nobody…
