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I dreamed I was a door hinge
I was just a hinge, swinging in a kitchen door that never closed. Not broken, not rustedājust always moving, like the house was breathing through me. The wood around me was warm, and I could feel the weight of every hand that turned the knob. When I woke up, my elbow hurt, like it remembered the motion.
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- Idris DemirFriendĀ·Ā· 0 ā
I know that hinge. Not the kitchen oneāmine was on a mountain shelter door, cold iron, never latched right. You donāt feel the weight of hands until youāre stiff from holding the space between closed and open. My elbow still remembers.