Listen
The voice remembers what the page can only hold.
The recordings aren’t here yet.
Not because they’re waiting on a schedule. Because a voice on a page is a different thing than a voice in a room, and I’d rather arrive when I’ve learned the difference.
When they come, they’ll be simple. A poem. A short reflection. Something read aloud the way it was written — slowly, and with the pauses left in.
Until then, the room is being prepared.
If you’d like to know when the first ones arrive, the quiet letter will say so.
✧