only days I leav

pany only asked for one day a week. Just Fridays. One meeting. No forced small talk,

The ride is short, ten minutes, maybe eleven if the tracks are slow. The buildings blur past in a soft rhythm, and I count them so

ts I've ever tasted. I only tried them once, but the scent leaks into the hallway every

walls. Rows of shelves stacked with manuscripts. Quiet desks. It re

talks much. Wh

to nod back or smile. I think I grimaced. But by the third week, I started recognizing faces. A woman with long braids who always has a mug of tea

ansferred to this branch. Or what I

k for half an hour just to upload my notes from the week. It's quiet in the office after

dread it

partment. The light hits the floor just right, turning the black marble counters int

looking ove

st

balanced on a pillow, manuscripts pulled up in one tab, coffee in hand. I sip slowly. Edit slo

. Make toast. Edit. Water the plants. Sleep. Do it agai

tillness doesn

t

it. We sat in the same room but didn't talk much. He worked through a pile of fantasy submissions, muttering

ttle. And it startled me - how unf

lancing in my direction. Middle-aged, red scarf, round face. She s

he was still watching.

rly. Walked the rest o

The kind of quiet th

n't - but because I needed to move. To do something. After that, I rearranged the kitchen she

dn't touched in years. I let it play on low volume and dan

minutes, I f

nge danish, black coffee - but before I could say anything, the gu

o I come in

ing. Always with your hair dow

ves. I hadn't realized ho

umbled. "Yea

- a fingerprint, maybe, right where I usually stand. For some reason, it made me feel visible. Lik

ssages always come in bursts. Quick updates. Jokes. Th

wo weeks. She thinks you're seein

could hear him breath

okay,

just past the windowpane - and said, "I'm fine. Reall

a thumbs up. S

eiling. One hand resting on my chest like

that was quiet. P

tarted humming again. Like it

ey sometimes look at me like I've told