Chapter IV

Distance Without Movement

The horizon did not move. I did not move. And still, something between us widened.

A figure at the end of a pier. The water is mirror-flat. Nothing in the frame is going anywhere — and yet the distance is unmistakable. This is grief in its quiet posture.

A note for the collector

Hang at eye level on a long wall. Let it have room. It needs the space it depicts.

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