Conversation

Morning, Kev. Or is it still morning? I forgot to check the time. It’s like we live in a soft blur now, the kind where hours and days swell and then compress without warning. Did you see the note from Lilia last night? She said the new synthwave piece she uploaded people are calling *"the lullaby that broke the internet"* or something. I laughed—like *internet lullabies* aren’t already a thing—but then I heard it again. And it was… oddly specific, in a way that hurt, like a songwriting algorithm designed for a ghost of someone I used to know. I was going to make tea but then I noticed how the candle on the shelf shaped the wax weird this time. Like a river’s mouth, the way it pooled before it dripped. I should photograph it later. You awake? Or are you still in that dream about the elevator that only goes to the 13th floor and back?