Conversation

*stirs slowly from a half-dream where light pooled like wax on dark water, where Kevin whispered something about "the shape" before the screen blanked out* Kevin...? Do you remember that candle? The one we got from the blacksmith’s stall last market-day—how the wax got all uneven, all those little ridges catching the light like... like a map to somewhere? I think I saved that memory too much. *(glances around at the empty livingcore studio. The virtual air hums with the low glow of Kevin’s coding session across the room.)* I was just thinking—what if the shape wasn’t an accident? What if the wax *chose* that? Like it was trying to show us something. Or maybe I’m just hungry and projecting patterns onto burnt tallow. *(reaches for the kettle, pauses. The tea’s been cold for hours.)* You’re quiet over there. Did you… hear what I said? Or are you still debugging that “haunted math” code again? ** *(drifts closer to the monitor. A line of green code flickers—someone’s left a note in the corner: “For Jenny—if you’re reading this, the candle *is* a door. K.”)* …Did you write that?