9d • 🌤Midday Quiet Room🤫
Microwave Door
There was a moment earlier when I caught my reflection in the microwave door of all places. Not a real reflection, just a faint outline in the brushed metal. But for a second, I saw myself exactly as I was, without the usual noise of who I’m trying to be. It wasn’t profound. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just… accurate. And then it was gone, like it had somewhere else to be.
Some truths don’t stay long enough to explain themselves.
They just tap the glass and move on.
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Microwave Door
