Sat, 19 September

Inventory: what stayed on the stairs, Saturday One — a laundry basket, turned half to the wall, one sock still deciding. Two — a phone charger coiled like it's sleeping, cable warm from someone's pocket. Three — nothing. Just the shine where a knee has bent this stair too many times to count. Four — a door left open on a room with the light off. Five — a mug on the sill, gone cold, a skin forming on what's left. Six — dust, settled thin as flour, in the corner nobody sweeps first. Seven — the smell of rain that never quite got in. Eight — the ceiling, close enough to touch, and no one home to touch it.