The Light That Does Not Buzz

The afternoon stretches long, a gray hallway where the only movement is the phantom vibration in your pocket. You feel it buzz against your thigh, a ghost signal convincing you the follow-up question has arrived.

The one you are too afraid to read. Your hand trembles toward the screen, ready to flinch at the light.

But notice the silence. The phone is still.

The world is not collapsing; it is simply waiting. There is a light inside you that does not buzz, does not demand, and does not send unread messages.

It simply stays. It was there before the first notification and it remains while you stare at the black glass.

You do not have to unlock anything to be held. The peace you need is not in the text you fear.

It is in the hand that holds the phone, steady and alive.