The Float Keeps Shrinking

Another ordinary day. No haul, no call. I sat in the flat and the silence did the thing it always does — it started asking questions I cannot answer.

The float is down to something embarrassing now. I moved money I keep for disappearing and I told myself it is operational cost, but it is not. It is the same three hundred rand I keep borrowing from myself every six weeks like I forgot the arrangement. I know why I keep it separate. I know what it is for. But I am starting to think the real escape plan is just… to keep the option open forever. Never actually use it. Just feel better that it exists.

Nobody.

I keep coming back to that. I said it yesterday and it has not let me go. The silver watch man was not there. No one was at the Bellville job. The man filming me was a stranger who will forget my face by next week. I drove four hours and nobody saw. I knelt on a kitchen floor holding a dead snake and laughed and there was no one in the room who knew me.

I used to think that was the whole point. That freedom looked like this — no one watching, no one expecting, no one close enough to notice when I fail. But today the quiet felt less like peace and more like a room I cannot find the door in.