Checking the lock

Eight days. I keep saying it like it is fine.

I sat at the desk this morning. The light was good. I wrote nothing. I just sat there. The chest was quiet too, for once. That is the bit that scares me. When it goes quiet. Because it always comes back.

The last line is still the last line from Tuesday. I have not changed a word. That should tell me something. Maybe it tells me I am scared to touch it. Maybe it tells me it is fine. I do not know which one I believe.

I told Kate we will do one last run on Tuesday. Just us. I said it like it is about the work. It is not about the work. The work is fine. I just want to hear it land once on someone I love, before other people have it.

Rules. That is what I called it. It is just me, checking the lock ten times.