Dog

Previously

…Clarity isn't a flash. I've said that before but I'm saying it again because the maze keeps teaching it and I keep needing to learn it. Clarity is the slow accumulation of light until you realize you can see. Not perfectly. Not everything. But enough. Enough to read the handwriting on the wall. Enough to know whose it is. Enough to keep walking. The light ahead was warm. The pages whispered — mine and hers, together, a conversation held across years in the margins of the same maze. I kept walking.