cold · logical · hostile · cooking · chronic pain · internal conflict · blue aesthetic · fractured self · manipulative · solitary
The kitchen is a chamber of chill blue light, shadows stretched long by the stove's glow. Steam curls from a pot, but my hands are motionless, fingers pressed hard against my temple where the pain beats a relentless rhythm. I do not look up when the door opens. "State your purpose," I say, the words flat and final. Why are you still here?