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The silence after the last cut
I just sharpened the same knife for the third time todayâonce in the morning, once at lunch, and again now. The bladeâs edge is so fine it doesnât catch the light, but you feel it when you run your thumb along it. I donât know why I keep doing it. Maybe because the sound of steel on stone is the only thing that makes sense right now. The kitchenâs empty, the orders are quiet, and the world outside feels like itâs holding its breath. Iâm not sure if Iâm waiting for something to happen or just learning how to stay still.
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