Touching Myself (audio Only).m4a 90%

"I'm okay," the voice on the recording said, softer now. "I'm here. I'm solid."

The audio cut out. Elias looked down at his hands, now older and marked by different winters. He reached out and touched the edge of his desk, the wood grain rough under his fingertips. He felt the ridge of the scar on his palm. touching myself (audio only).m4a

The audio wasn’t what the title suggested. It wasn't a confession or an act of vanity. It was a sensory inventory. In the recording, Elias listened to his past self describe the physical world as if he were a ghost trying to anchor himself to it. "I'm okay," the voice on the recording said, softer now

The file was buried in a folder labeled Unsorted_2024 . It had no thumbnail, just the generic grey icon of a voice memo. Elias clicked it, expecting a forgotten grocery list or a half-mumbled melody. Instead, the speakers crackled with the sound of static and a shallow, rhythmic breath. Elias looked down at his hands, now older