I don’t know why I write this.
No one's asked me to. No one's here.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGkxqdlIx3y
But today… I heard the fire whisper.
Not in words. Just attention.
The tavern is still. The wood hasn’t creaked since the morning.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6sh4F9gi2m
The bottles have settled into their places like they’ve always been here.
But they haven’t.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtY7YMjanPg
Nothing has.
Everything is new, even me.
Yet the bar feels worn beneath my hand.
Like something old is watching through me. Waiting to be remembered.
So I lit the fire. Straightened the chairs. Polished the glass.
And then I made a drink.
No one ordered it. No one came.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVykAOi47iG
I made it anyway.
Because something told me:
They will.
Someday.
And when they do, I will already be here.
Waiting. Listening.
Writing.
ns216.73.216.85da2
