Ineptly holding the knife, you reach back towards the wine-dark jacket hanging on the hook. Digging into the expanse of the pocket, you pull forward a small bronze statue of a horse performing dressage. You have seen this before in an old picture in a family album. This belonged to your grandmother, who died from tuberculosis before you were born. Music begins playing in another room, and you drop the figurine to the floor in a loud crash and hear shuffling feet in the distance.
Do you pick up the figurine or go follow the music coming from the next room?
〔⍺〕〔go back〕〔pick up figurine〕〔follow the music〕
Brian writes Standing in Doorways, a newsletter dedicated to essays and stories of lingering in those spaces on the margins and along the edges, where decisions build character and challenge notions of access and separation.
Mysteriously so! So much so, I would think this may become a leitmotif for future nodes!
Just catching up with all of these. Brilliantly done, Brian!