Someone Who Waits

Airnote  ·  Rui  ·  Oct 9, 2026

The place where she sleeps had ended up in someone's notebook.
With a reader beside her, words come down where they should.
In reports, they always get lost.

Under the low ceiling, she straightened a corner of the blanket for no reason.
Through a gap in the curtain, a single thread of pale light from a Light-Eel slipped in,
and the fold turned faintly blue.

She failed to swallow a yawn, and her shoulders shook a little.
It's the still-okay kind, she said.
It really was still okay.

Laughter is swallowed by the wall and fades a beat late.
Today, that lateness is warm.