The only sound is the gentle bubble of the filter in the fish tank, its soft blue light casting shifting shadows across my apartment walls. I’ve been watching them for hours. The way the angelfish glides, so graceful and unaware it’s trapped behind glass. It thinks this little world is all there is. Safe. Perfect.
I have a photo of you here, drying on the line. It’s my favorite one so far. The light catches your smile just right, but your eyes… they’re looking at something outside the frame. Something other than me.
I need to fix that. I need another picture. One where you’re looking only at me. One where you understand that this is your world now. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.