I don’t know why I write this.
No one's asked me to. No one's here.16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3UGNCqdJK9
But today… I heard the fire whisper.
Not in words. Just attention.
The tavern is still. The wood hasn’t creaked since the morning.16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVcjpGbS4u4
The bottles have settled into their places like they’ve always been here.
But they haven’t.16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡujMPD6NZKW
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.16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb4EGzwgWEi
I made it anyway.
Because something told me:
They will.
Someday.
And when they do, I will already be here.
Waiting. Listening.
Writing.
ns216.73.216.8da2
