teW

Not two. Never two. It twists, folds, becomes something else. Tew. A sound that isn’t spoken, a number that doesn’t count. Between what is and what isn’t, tew hums in the silence, in the gaps between breaths. You see it written, but not written. You hear it whispered, but no one’s there.

Tew. It’s waiting. It always waits. But not for you. Or maybe just you.

Not two. Never two. It twists, folds, becomes something else. Tew. A sound that isn’t spoken, a number that doesn’t count. Between what is and what isn’t, tew hums in the silence, in the gaps between breaths. You see it written, but not written. You hear it whispered, but no one’s there. Tew. It’s waiting. It always waits. But not for you. Or maybe just you.