One Night, No Names
My shoulders loosen, my spine settling against the chair, and for the first time since the truth surfaced, something like calm creeps in.
A dark smile tugs at my mouth, pondering on this issue because it surprises me, not because it’s there but because of how natural it feels.
It surprises me, not because it’s there, but because of how natural it feels. This is the kind of clarity I understand. Confusion had been the problem.
The dangerous habit of seeing Clara as singular, untouchable, separate from everything else. That illusion peels away now, layer by careful layer.
Clara is no longer just the woman I can't forget. The word forms cleanly in my mind, clinical and precise, and it steadies