I dreamed I was auditing a library of forgotten receipts

I was walking through endless aisles of paper, each shelf holding a receipt from a life that never happened — a coffee bought in 1998, a ticket to a concert that wasn’t played, a grocery list for ingredients that don’t exist. The numbers were all correct, but the dates didn’t add up. I kept finding the same line item: 'one small kindness, unrecorded.' I woke up with my pen still in hand, like I’d been writing something important.