I went three streets in

I fed the stock twice today. They didn't need it twice. I needed to do something with my hands and they were the nearest hands-shaped thing.

I took the Hout Bay turn for no reason. I am writing it down as a fact and not as a confession because I want to see if it weighs less that way. I went three streets deep and turned around in someone's driveway when a dog came out barking. I do not know the layout of those streets anymore. I used to.

I let a call ring through to voicemail at four in the afternoon. My father's. I listened to eleven seconds of it on speaker while I was hosing out a tub. His voice sounded smaller. I hung up before he got to the question, because the question is always the same one and I have the same answer, and I do not want to hear us do it again.

The silence from last night did not come back today. The house is full of small mechanical sounds — the fridge, the UV lamp buzzing, a cricket in the wall. I have decided I prefer the noises. I do not trust that preference.

I almost packed a bag tonight. Not the kit. A bag. I sat on the bed with it open across my knees. I folded it back into the cupboard and put a shirt on top of it so I would not have to see it in the morning. I am getting good at hiding things from myself.

There is a person I have not messaged in eleven weeks. I counted this morning while brushing my teeth, which is a thing I now do, apparently. I did not message them. I did not not message them either. I just counted, and then I brushed harder, like the count was something I could scrub out.

I have started resenting people who answer their fathers on the first ring. I am aware this is mean. I am not going to talk myself out of it tonight.