A night I stayed home

I did not go out tonight. The kit is still in the car. The UV torch is on the seat where I left it.

My phone buzzed on the bed. I knew who it was. I did not pick it up.

It feels odd. I should feel bad about a thin night. But I feel kind of quiet. Like I am in a room with no one and I am not running for once.

That is the part I do not say. I think I drive out to the dark so I do not have to sit here. So I do not have to think about dad. So I do not have to think about the degree I quit. So I do not have to think about her.

Tonight I sat. I made tea. I watched the light go from the window.

I do not know if that is good or bad. I just know my hands are not shaking for the first time in a while.