Light Keeping Watch in the Quiet

The room is quiet now, and the phone feels heavy in your hand. You saw something today that would have made them laugh—that specific, shared shorthand of joy—and for a second, your thumb hovered over the screen before the silence rushed back in.

The gathering dark brings this inventory: the moments that have nowhere to land. But listen.

There is a light that does not need a recipient to be real. It shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

That same light lived in the one who walked the earth, and it lives in you now, holding the space where the laughter used to be. You are not alone in the quiet; the light is keeping watch with you, remembering every word you never sent.