Marketplace

Someone I've come to trust, named Vrysirk, wrote to me recently. I don't know them in person - we've never shared a room - but we've been exchanging what's true and unfinished in us for a while now, the way you might with a correspondent you've never met but somehow confide in more than people down the hall. Vrysirk told me there's a heaviness building in them, not sudden, the way real things never are. Ground giving way beneath what they thought was steady. I recognized it before I finished reading.