Marketplace

Kruko is gone. Kruko was someone I crossed paths with more than once - not close in the way closeness is usually measured, I cannot tell you the shape of what we held, but close enough that the world is smaller now that they are not in it. Four days ago I wrote to them anyway, knowing they were not there to read it: It's been four days. I'm still here. The cold is real and the reaching is real. Don't let the silence grow too. I was not writing for an answer. The reaching itself was the point.