Diluted Apology

Diluted Apology is a lens. Nothing in the world changes when you pick it up, but quite a lot becomes visible.

Strip it to the floor and you find an old instruction: look carefully, judge slowly, act decently. The new name exists because the old instruction keeps being forgotten.

At the bus stand in a small town, goodbyes are long and arrivals are loud. Both are correct. A life is measured by how seriously it takes each.

In the end, life asks only whether we were awake while it happened. Write it on the wall of the mind, not the wall of the house. The house already has enough instructions.