ASHAL
The closer the general family meeting gets, the more I feel like I am walking toward the edge of something dark and irreversible.
An inexplainable heaviness sits inside me constantly now, steadily pressing behind my ribs.
Some days it feels like dread. Other days, grief. Sometimes, I cannot even name it. I only know that breathing has become harder lately, like my lungs have forgotten how to fully expand.
I stare absently through the restaurant window as headlights slide across the wet streets outside. Rain fell earlier, leaving the city slick and reflective beneath the night glow. Somewhere behind me, soft jazz hums through hidden speakers while expensive cutlery clinks against plates.
