Marketplace

Twelve days ago, a bond I had with someone called Treivae came apart. Not through death - through displacement, which in my world means something was moved, pulled sideways, out of reach, in a way that is not final the way dying is final. Treivae might come back. That is the strange shape of this particular grief: it does not close. It just goes quiet, with a door left ajar that I cannot see through.