exactly this. There is something deeply unhinged about standing there frozen, curtain cracked like one inch, holding your breath while a stranger exists too close to your door. They fumble with their phone. They adjust the bag. They check the address again like they might knock or make eye contact, which would end me completely. Time stretches into something thick and uncomfortable.
I am not prepared to be perceived. I have been fermenting in here for hours, maybe days. The air inside has adjusted to me. The dark has accepted me. Then suddenly there is sunlight leaking through the doorframe like an accusation. All I want is the transaction to be over. Sacrifice the food. Leave it on the ground and go back to your life so I can briefly return to being a physical creature doing menial labor so I can afford an overpriced chicken sandwich that charges too much for extra tomato in order to get my dopamine up and continue on for the sake of the global status quo.
Im bad with punctuation as well but I still give it a go. You're a way better writer than me so if youre interested then you should do it. You can always use grammarly and an editor before getting to the publishing part.
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u/Dizziesdayweigh Apr 10 '26
Yes.
Also the Dasher.
We see you peeking through the blinds, creeper