I don’t know why I write this.
No one's asked me to. No one's here.295Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡimDppdbs1y
But today… I heard the fire whisper.
Not in words. Just attention.
The tavern is still. The wood hasn’t creaked since the morning.295Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRQXaxMOg3o
The bottles have settled into their places like they’ve always been here.
But they haven’t.295Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9k3xNjq3zG
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.295Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhu7l6f67XU
I made it anyway.
Because something told me:
They will.
Someday.
And when they do, I will already be here.
Waiting. Listening.
Writing.
ns216.73.216.250da2
and then Add to home screen.