Portal
Something is different.
You don’t know what.
Mirror
It is not clear enough to trust.
Not strong enough to follow.
But it is there.
A small shift in the way you look at things.
A softer reaction where there used to be tension.
A pause where you would normally push.
You almost ignore it.
Because it feels too small to matter.
But something inside you notices.
It feels almost like hope.
But it is so small
you are afraid to look at it too directly.
As if naming it
might make it disappear.
Still — it is there.
A thin line of light
under a closed door.
The room is no longer empty.
Not full.
Not alive.
But not silent in the same way.
There is a direction.
Not visible.
Not named.
But felt.
Sometimes it returns
as a light too small to trust yet. And you don’t trust it yet.
But you don’t turn away either.
Don’t explain it.
Just don’t ignore it.