The Notice

A door, and the hour beside it

The Kitchen

Midnight

The refund came through before midnight, to the same card.

The key came back across the landing. On the calendar beside the neighbor’s door, a single line of ink went through the flight number.

The bag stayed by the door, packed.

By ten to six the kitchen had its first light. The kettle went on. No cup came down from the shelf.

At six it clicked off.

New pieces in your inbox, when they are ready.