I sat on the stairs with the lights off

Dear Delyara, The house was still moving around me — television in the next room, one child upstairs, the kitchen not quite finished, my phone somewhere I didn’t want to look at — and I sat halfway between floors in the dark because I needed one place that was not fully in the day and not yet in tomorrow. It felt oddly peaceful. Not because anything was solved. Because nothing in that exact patch of stairwell was asking anything of me. I think sometimes I need less advice and more corners. Somewhere small enough to hold only me for a minute.