She says it is casual. We still clock shoes, job, whether he rinsed a mug. This flat runs checks. Nobody asked. We do them anyway.
Tag: friendship
I can hear the message being recorded next door. Then it pings my phone. We live six feet apart and still perform distance like strangers.
I know the night bus exists. My feet know it too. Sometimes I pay the stupid fare so I do not think until I get home.
Same kitchen. Same oat milk. Then a rose on the app. The house became an incubator with worse lighting. I shut the fridge, considered leaving.
We looked tight in the picture. On the platform it went quiet. That is the comedown. The story goes on the grid. Silence comes home.