Blue Flower

Another Story From the Jukebox

When the Light Doesn’t Bend

You move like the world is already edited—
soft focus, edges forgiven.
People don’t meet you;
they drift into orbit
and call it fate.

I just wanted to see what happens.

Not join.
Just stand where the camera forgets
and watch.

You walk in—
voices drop half a step,
shoulders angle toward you,
laughing a little quicker than they mean to.

You expect it.

I’ve seen how this works:
as long as no one looks too long,
as long as the room keeps agreeing
to the same version of you.

So I stayed.

Long enough for the rhythm to slip.
Long enough for someone to miss a cue,
for the silence to land
without being rescued.

When the light doesn’t bend for you,
nothing dramatic.

You just stand there.
Without the help.