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Wanderers travel to touch. Warmth, tenderness, affection. Gestures of welcome. The recognition of one’s existence. Love.   Proof that a space was once left, and that one can return to claim it in someone’s home, in someone’s heart.   It is an antidote to the fear of not existing,to the thought that one’s disappearance would pass unnoticed. Evidence that touch does not meet indifference, that life is not moving through you as though you were transparent.   Touch leaves a trace

Close the file. Get on with life.   Under the cover, a piece cut out begins to rise. Like a germ, it grows silently. It persists in the dark. It learns the rhythms of neglect. It thrives on what is not spoken.   It settles into habits.Into the way decisions are madewithout reflection.   It slips into preferences,into what feels familiar, into what is chosen again without knowing why.   It shapes what is avoided, what is postponed, what is explained away as coincidence.   It e