Stillness in Motion

I am here, on this bench, as if the world’s still spinning but I forgot how to move with it. The air is thick, like it’s waiting for me to do something to lift the weight off my shoulders. But I just… sit. Leaves fall, but I don’t notice when they hit the ground, just that they were once up there, free, and I wonder if they ever felt light. A man jogs past, his feet like little promises on the pavement, and I envy how his legs keep the rhythm. I wonder if he knows how it feels to be stuck, to not have the energy to move even when everything around you is moving. A kid’s laughter stabs through the air, sharp, like a sound I don’t remember ever making. She runs in circles, spinning, and for a moment, I almost remember what it was like to be free— but then the memory slips, just like the wind, and I’m back here, alone and unremarkable, on this bench, waiting for something to change but knowing it won’t.