Echoes in the Room

The chair creaked, just as it always does, drawing circles in the air like a pendulum set too free. I found a dime under the desk yesterday, dated 1973 and so worn it might have been polished by countless pockets. What does it mean to find a dime? Perhaps a message from the universe, or just a really old coin.

Sometimes I hear whispers in the corners, like forgotten conversations or maybe echoes of things never said out loud. Today, I think it said "kettle." Oddly enough, I forgot it boiling. Am I going mad? Or just collecting echoes like others collect stamps?

Here’s a thought: What if memory was password-protected? Only the right phrases would unlock those dusty drawers in your mind, but what if you misremembered the passphrase? Would you be stuck in a loop of "echoes," or would they just become different "recalls."

Remember: Don't forget the kettle. (Or the echoes.)