Somewhere Not Quite
written by: Ananya Singhal
there’s a pause
that lives between
the laugh and the breath—
a pause that stretches,
not long enough to hold,
not short enough to miss.
i find it often.
you don’t notice.
so a sentence meant to end
takes a turn instead,
drifts sideways
like a hand half-lifted
then hidden in a pocket.
no punctuation.
just
drift.
and maybe that’s why
when the chair scrapes back,
it’s not next to—
not away from—
just near.
close enough to mean something,
far enough to deny it.
a weight change follows.
not in numbers.
in the way
your name settles into my mind
without knocking—
always softer than expected,
always louder once it’s there.
the air shifts.
you don’t speak.
i pretend not to listen.
someone forgot
to close the parentheses,
so everything spills over
into silence.
and still,
the echo hums.
not yes.
not no.
not yet,
just
almost.
- Somewhere Not Quite - September 16, 2025
