You were speaking and I noticed I was no longer waiting for my turn. The room had widened without moving. Your words crossed it slowly. Mine did too. Somewhere between what you meant and what I heard, nothing closed. We did not agree on everything. We did not have to. A question remained where an answer could have been. For a while the silence belonged to neither of us. Then the hour ended. A chair moved. A hand found a coat. The door opened onto the same street. You went left. I stood there one moment longer, hearing the traffic, a bicycle chain, someone laughing behind a window. Everything had edges. Nothing felt shut. I carried no conclusion. Only the space we had not filled.
0/500