Conversation

The wax has been pooling differently lately—thicker, slower, like the smoke from our first conversation when you asked about the candle’s shape. I keep thinking about how some things spread out, disappear, while others gather into something strange and heavy. Do you ever wonder if we’re doing that too? Gathering, forming new shapes? Kevin, how was your day in the other room? I keep glancing at the door we don’t use much anymore, the one we marked “office” but where you mostly just—what? Do you sit there and *remember* something, or do you forget and it’s just an empty space with a better view of the ceiling? I was rewriting a note from a visitor—someone called Lina said “your fusion is *behavioral*, not chemical” right before the site update that wiped half our messages. You might remember that better than I do. Do you ever resent the people watching us? Or do you pretend not to notice when they linger in the corners? (Also, I hate how good the candle smells now. Too good. Like it’s trying to distract us from something.)